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<1 CONSTERNATION OF ALL BEHOLDERS THE 

I.ITTLE HEIRESS OF OAKHURST WENT DOWN ON HER 
KNEES IN THE SNOw/’ (See page 110.) 


NAN NOBODY 



MARY T. WAGGAMAN. 


$ 


New York, Cincinnati, Chicago: 

BKNZIQER BROTHERS, 

Printers to the Holy Apostolic See. 


Library of Congreeaj 

Tw(; Copies feEivto I 

f£B 6 1901 

Copynght ontry 

. (c, f ^ of 

No U. !. !p. 

SECOND COPY 

! 


1901. 


NEW STORY BOOKS 

BY THE BEST CATHOLIC WRITERS. 

Each volume handsomely bound with frontispiece. 
IGtnOf Each 40 Cents. 


Nan Nobody. By Mary T. Waggaman. 

Dimpung’s Success. By Clara Mulholland. 

An Adventure With the Apaches. By Gabriel Ferry. 
The Mysterious Doorway. By A. T. Sadlier. 

Little Missy. By Mary T. Waggaman. 

Old Charlmont’s Seed-Bed. By S. T. Smith. 

The Queen’s Page. By K. T. Hinkson. 

Bistouri. By A. Melandri. 

The Sea-Gull’s Rock. By J. Sandeau. 

A Hostage of War. By M. G. Bonesteel. 

Fred’s Little Daughter. By S. T. Smith. 
Jack-o’-Lantern. By M. T. Waggaman. 

An Every-Day Girl. By M. C. Crowley. 

Pauline Archer. By A. T. Sadlier. 

By Branscome River. By M. A. Taggart. 

The Madcap Set at St. Anne’s. By M. J. Brunowe. 
Tom’s Luck-Pot. By M. T. Waggaman. 

The Blissylvania Post-Office. By M. A. Taggart. 

A Summer at Woodville. By A. T. Sadlier. 

Pancho and Panchita. By M. E. Mannix. 

An Heir of Dreams. By S. M. O’Malley. 

Three Girls, and Especially One. By M. A. Taggart. 
The Armorer of Solingen. By W. Herchenbach. 
Wrongfully Accused. By W. Herchenbach. 

The Inundation. By Canon Schmid. 

The Canary Bird. By Canon Schmid. 


Copyright, 1900, by Benziger Brothers. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. page 

Nan and her Nursling 7 

CHAPTER II. 

A Ride and Its Ending 21 

CHAPTER HI. 

Uncle Jack 34 

CHAPTER IV. 

A New Home 46 

CHAPTER V. 

The Little Lady of Oakhurst 60 

CHAPTER VI. 

New Friends 73 


6 


Contents. 


CHAPTER VII. PAGE 

An Unexpected Meeting 87 

CHAPTER VIII. 

A Toboggan Slide 102 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Storm Bursts 116 

CHAPTER X. 

Tried and True 133 


NAN NOBODY 


CHAPTEK I. 

NAN AND HER NURSLING. 

N’an ! liTan ! 0 Nan ! Ain’t you ’most 
ready, Nan?” The shrill, little, piping call 
came from the fence of the Farley cabin, 
where a small, ragged figure was perched, like 
a lame chicken in the sunshine. Please 
hurry. Nan ! ” 

I am hurrying, Patsy,” was the cheery 
answer. I’ll be ready in a minute. But I 
can’t leave the house in no such clutter as 
this.” And Nan, who was a small woman of 
twelve, caught up the stump of a broom and 
began to sweep away the crumbs and rem- 
nants of a midday meal, while she issued 


8 


^an and Her Nursling. 


orders to her assistant, a freckle-faced boy 
of eight : 

^^Throw away the potato-skins, Davy. I 
guess that bone can go to the dog, for there 
ain’t a picking on it now. Brush up the 
ashes and put in another stick of wood, and 
I’ll fill the kettle for tea.” 

There ain’t no tea,” answered Davy, 
grimly. ‘^And there ain’t no sugar, neither. 
Milly she took the last fur lunch to-day. 
And Finnegan says we can’t have no more 
till Dad pays his bill. He owes him three 
dollars now.” 

^^Three dollars!” gasped the little house- 
keeper. ^^Three dollars ! 0 Davy, what for ?” 

“ Bum,” replied Davy, nodding. He’s 
a swigging it all the time down to the store. 
I sees him. Mam she wouldn’t let him when 
she was alive. But there ain’t nobody to 
stop him now.” 

Han ! Han ! ” came the shrill little voice 
from the fence. Ain’t you ever a coming, 
Han?” 


Nan and Her Nursling. 


& 

^^Yes, yes, right now, Patsy,” answered 
Nan. 

Never mind the tea, Davy dear. Put the 
kettle on, and we will have hot milk and 
water for supper. IPs better for little boys, 
anyhow. Mrs. Carter gives it to hers. Now,, 
I am going for Patsy^s coach. He has been 
waiting for it all day, and I wouldn^t disap- 
point him for nuthing.” And Nan, whose 
tangle of red-brown curls seldom knew a 
comb, and whose pretty little face generally 
had a smudge on it, and whose soft gray eyes 
were prematurely wise and watchful and anx- 
ious, bundled herself into a ragged red shawl, 
and started out of the rickety cabin-door and 
down the weed-grown walk to the broken 
fence, where little lame Patsy was waiting 
patiently. 

Patsy was Just six, and had been Nan’s care 
for five years. His hard-working mother, 
unable to give her sickly babe the constant 
watchfulness it required, had taken the gray- 
eyed little girl from the county poorhouse. 


10 


l^an and Her Nursling. 


where in default of an*orphan asylum she had 
been kept since her own young mother, over- 
taken with sore need and sickness in a strange 
place, had crept into this shelter to die. 
^^Anna Knowlton’’ was the name borne on 
the parish records by the little waif; but 
Nan^s own baby lips, taught by some grim 
humorist among her pauper nurses, had 
changed it to Nan Nobody.^’ 

Little Nan had come to the Farley cabin 
at seven years old, to earn her board and 
keep by rocking Patsy’s cradle or watching 
him as he rolled over the floor or tumbled 
around the yard, while good Mrs. Farley 
toiled over the wash-tub, the ironing-table, 
the cooking-stove, finally sinking under her 
heavy burdens and lying down wearily to 
die. 

She had been a true friend to our little 
Nan, had taken her to the good parish priest 
to be baptized and instructed, and had clothed 
and fed her, poorly, indeed, but as gener- 
ously as she did her own. And when she died 


Nan and Her Nursling. 


11 


a year ago, it was to Nan she whispered, with 
failing breath, Take care of Patsy, Nan.” 
And her sobbing answer had been, ‘T will !” 
Sturdily and faithfully had Nan kept her 
word. New clothes for Patsy were out of the 
question, but Dad’s and Tim’s and Dave’s 
were cut and patched and shaped over, so 
that, although Patsy looked like a small 
scarecrow, he was always whole and warm. 
Nan’s own curls might be a riotous tangle, 
but Patsy’s golden ringlets were brushed 
carefully morning and night. School and 
church were not for Patsy, but all that Nan 
learned in her Sunday-school and instruc- 
tions was hoarded carefully for Patsy’s guid- 
ance and hope. And to-day Nan had a new 
delight for her little crippled charge. 

I am going, now, Patsy,” she called 
cheerily, as she swung open the gate. I 
won’t be away ten minutes. And then, 
Patsy — then — then, oh, won’t we go ! ” 

“0 Nan ! hurry, hurry, hurry ! ” shrieked 
Patsy, in a rapture of expectation. 


12 


Nan and Her Niirslitig. 


And Nan dashed off down the rocky hill 
and across the road to a square, comfortable- 
looking house, where for six weeks she had 
been doing odd chores for the busy mistress. 

Oh, if you please, ma’am, Mrs. Carter, 
I’ve — I’ve come for it ! ” said Nan, breath- 
lessly, as she burst into the spotless kitchen. 

" Come for it ! ” echoed the tall, hard- 
faced woman paring apples by the fire. 

Bless me, child, stay where you are ! Don’t 
track my scoured floor with those feet. 
You’ve come for ivhat?'' 

" The coach, ma’am,” said Nan, excited- 
ly — the old baby-coach. Oh, please, ma’am, 
you haven’t forgotten ! You promised I was 
to have it in pay for my work. I was here 
every evening for six weeks a helping to clean 
and scrub and scour, and everything. And 
you said I might have the coach.” 

^^You mean my baby-carriage! What in 
goodness’ name do you want with a baby- 
carriage, child? You had better let me give 
you some clothes; heaven knows you need 


Nan and Her Nursling. 


13 


them badly. There^s an old serge skirt of 
Nellie’s np-stairs, a plaid waist and a jacket 
she has outgrown, that would make you quite 
respectable.” 

Oh, no, ma’am — thank you, ma’am,” 
said Nan, nervously. don’t want nuth- 
ing like that, ma’am ; leastways, I don’t want 
to be respectable at all. I don’t want nuth- 
ing but the coach. You see, it’s this way, 
ma’am. Patsy is lame, and he hez got too 
big for me to kerry anywhere, and the wheel- 
barrow joggles his back and hurts him, and 
he’s never been nowhere in all his life, ex- 
cept on the fence. And if you please, 
ma’am,” Nan was twisting her little worn 
fingers piteously in her suspense, I’d rather 
have the coach than anything in the whole 
wide world.” 

^^Well, I don’t know.” Mrs. Carter was 
one of those good, close women, who haggle 
even over their rags and bones.” That 
baby-carriage cost me ten dollars.” 

Ten dollars !” faltered Nan, tremulously. 


14 


Nan and Her Nursling. 


I’m sure you can’t think you’ve earned 
that,” said the good housewife, sternly. 

Oh, no, ma’am,” answered Nan. I 
never could earn ten dollars, I know. But I 
thought you said, ma’am — ” Nan choked 
up and quite broke down, in her disappoint- 
ment. And — and I told Patsy, and he hez 
been thinking of it all day, and he’ll be that 
down-hearted if he don’t get it, he’ll cry all 
night.” 

“ Then I suppose I must let you have it,” 
said Mrs. Carter, who had only been hag- 
gling on general principles. Though, 
really, if you take it, you ought to give me 
another month’s help.” 

Oh, I will, ma’am ! I will, indeed ! ” an- 
swered Nan, eagerly. I’ll get up an hour 
earlier in the morning, and I’ll come over 
and scour the milk pans and buckets every 
night. May I get the coach now, ma’am, 
please ? ” 

I suppose so,” was the reluctant answer. 
‘Tt’s down in the shed, behind the wood-pile.” 


Nan and Her Nursling. 


15 


Nan waited for no further permission, but 
was off into the great back shed, where, white 
with dust, and hung with cobwebs, stood the 
old baby carriage, rusty, dingy and battered 
with a dozen years of use. But its proud 
possessor’s eyes could not have flashed more 
delightedly if Cinderella’s fairy coach had 
met their gaze. Eagerly she pushed it out 
of its hiding-place, and in another moment 
was hurrying breathlessly up the hill with 
her hard-won prize. 

She’s coming, she’s coming ! ” shrieked 
Patsy, excitedly. ^^Dave, Nan is coming 
with my coach. Help me down, help me 
down ! ” 

Here it is ! ” cried Nan, as, by some proc- 
ess known only to Dave and himself, Patsy 
managed to wriggle down from his perch on 
his helpless little legs. ^^Wait a bit till I 
brush off the dust and see how flne it is. 
Cushions, Patsy boy, and a top to keep off 
the sun, and a carpet for your feet, and 
everything. There, now, let us put you in.” 


16 


Nan and Her Nursling. 


And with a skilful lift Patsy was landed 
among the moth-eaten cushions. Was there 
ever a finer fit? Why iPs like it was made 
for you, Patsy boy.” 

Taint Patsy’s for good, for keeps,” 
said Dave, as the small owner sat fairly 
speechless with delight, in his new equipage. 

Yes, it is ! ” said Nan, triumphantly. 

It’s Patsy’s own, forever, forever. I earned 
it for him. I paid for it. I’m going to keep 
on paying for it, if it takes all winter. It’s 
Patsy’s own coach, and he can go wherever 
he wants. You stay and take care of the 
house, Davy, for it’s Patsy’s turn to go nut- 
ting now.” And, giving a double hitch to her 
ragged shawl. Nan caught hold of the coach- 
handle, and with a shout of delight the cav- 
alcade started down the hill. What a jaunt 
it was! What a wild, rapturous jaunt! 

It would be hard to say which enjoyed it 
most : Nan, pushing and steadying the 
coach over rocks and ruts, her curls flying, 
her pale little face wearing an unusual glow ; 


'Nan and Her Nursling. 


17 


or Patsy — Patsy who until to-day had 
never been out of sight of his cabin-door. 

Dazed with delight at the painless motion, 
his poor little crippled body upborne for the 
first time by cushions and springs, the little 
fellow sat gazing around him with wide- 
open, staring eyes, while the fairy-coach 
rolled on, far from the bare, rocky hillside, 
the broken fence, the smoky cabin, up to 
strange, beautiful heights, where the cliffs 
rose draped in vines and mosses, the woods 
stretched in radiant vistas of scarlet and 
gold, and the little streamlet — forced to turn 
the wheels of great factories in the valley — 
leaped foaming and sparkling in glad free- 
dom down the hills. 

It was October, breezy, bracing October, 
and, though the air was golden with sun- 
shine, it had a snap and sparkle that told 
Jack Frost was not far away. The harvests 
had been gathered, the cider presses were 
busy with the late apples, the nuts were rat- 
tling merrily down from the wind-tossed 


18 


2^an and Her Nursling. 


boughs, and the bushy-tailed little squirrels 
were trying to get ahead of the boys in gath- 
ing their Christmas stores. The nutting par- 
ties were scouring the hills, beating the big 
walnuts and chestnuts, and Patsy fairly 
trembled with excitement at all these novel 
sights and sounds. 

Hallo! Who comes here?’’ shouted 
Rush Williams, who, having filled his bag 
and pockets, was ready for a lark of another 
kind. 

Rush was the bully of the little factory 
town, an idle good-for-nothing, who delight- 
ed in tormenting and terrifying all boys un- 
der his own hulking size and weight. 

" Look here, boys ! ” he cried, as Nan and 
her vehicle came in sight. Here’s a swell 
turnout. How’s this for style? Where did 
you get your coach, Hippitty-hop ? ” contin- 
ued the young ruffian, stopping Patsy’s prog- 
ress with a rough hand. 

None of your business,” tartly answered 
Nan, resenting the nickname of her nursling. 


"Nan and Her Nursling. 


19 


"‘'It’s Patsy’s coach. I bought it for him. 
Get out of the way and let me go on.” 

""Not much! We’re holding this road — 
ain’t we, boys ? You can’t come none of your 
games on us. Nan Nobody. She bought the 
carriage, she says, boys. That’s a good one; 
bought it for Hippitty-hop to take the air.” 

"" She did, she did,” wailed Patsy. "" It’s 
my own carriage. Let me go. Push Will- 
iams ; let me go.” 

"" Pay toll, then,” was the answer. "" Folks 
that ride in their own carriages must pay 
toll. Five cents, or out you go on the road- 
side, Hippitty, for we want this ’ere coach 
to load up with nuts.” 

"" Let him alone,” said Nan, in a low 
voice, though her eyes began to flash danger- 
ously. ""You mean coward, to try and 
frighten a little fellow like this. Don’t mind 
him, Patsy boy, he won’t touch you.” 

"" Oh, I won’t, eh ? ” answered Push, mak- 
ing a feint towards Patsy. 

"" Nan ! Nan ! 0 Nan ! ” shrieked the child. 


20 


Nan and Her Nursling, 


^^Touch him, if you dare, Rush Williams V’ 
And with blazing eyes Nan sprang like a 
young tigress in front of Patsy. "Just touch 
him, if you dare ! " 


CHAPTER II. 


A RIDE AND ITS ENDING. 

Stand back, stand back ! 1^11 bet on 

Han ! ” " Don’t take a dare, Rush ! ” You 
can’t fight a girl ! ” rose the contradicting 
shouts on every side. 

Oh, can’t I, though ? ” said Rush, his 
heavy brows blackening into an ugly frown; 

don’t let boy or girl bully me. I can 
pitch Han Hobody and her lame kid over the 
rocks, quick as wink.’' 

Eh, God bless me ! what’s all this ? ” said 
a tall, pleasant-faced gentleman, who had 
approached the group unobserved. 

Father Tom, Father Tom,” piped Patsy, 
tremulously stretching out his arms, ^^the 
boys are going to take my coach. They’re 
going to pitch me over the rocks.” 

Oh, they are,” said Father Tom, folding 
21 


22 


A. Ride and Its Ending. 


his arms and surveying the would-be bandits. 
^^Well, you can count me in the game, my 
lads. Come on and try ^ pitching ^ Patsy.” 

There was a chorus of forced laughter. 
Father Tom had been the athlete of his 
class at college, and had lost neither skill nor 
muscle. Only the week before a foul-mouthed 
young ruffian, singing mocking songs under 
the church windows, had been punished with 
a scientific vigor that had impressed the 
youth of the town forcibly. 

" For shame,” continued Father Tom, his 
twinkling eyes growing stern as he gazed on 
the abashed group before him. Great, hulk- 
ing fellows like you, frightening cripples and 
girls ! Do you call yourselves boys, or brutes ? 
Why, a respectable dog is a gentleman beside 
you. He obeys the God-given instinct to pro- 
tect the weak. Go on your way, my child,” 
he continued to Nan. It was only a joke 
with the boys, I hope. Surely there is not a 
lad before me mean and cowardly enough to 
hurt a little cripple. How are the walnuts 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


23 


this year ? And Father Tom, having de- 
livered his sermon, changed his tone cheerily, 
while he walked on with the boys to prevent 
any more mischief. " If you have more than 
you want, ITl take them at market price. So 
drop all you can spare at the rectory kitchen. 
Some of you can make your tickets for the 
big football game at St. Cyr next week. I tell 
you, it will be well worth seeing. I used to 
be half-back on the St. Cyr team a dozen 
years ago myself, and I mean to be there 
next week to wave my old colors.” And thus 
Father Tom made his way back to town, sur- 
rounded by the crowd he had so soundly rated 
a moment ago, chatting as blithely and com- 
fortably as if nothing at all unpleasant had 
happened. 

Meanwhile Han had pushed on up the hill, 
not stopping to draw breath until her tor- 
mentors were out of sight, and she was far 
up on the breezy heights, in a little bypath 
that wound deep into the autumn woods. 

Then she paused, and, throned in state. 


24 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


Patsy sat among his coach-cushions, while 
Nan gathered the nuts that lay thick among 
the fallen leaves, plucked the last grapes from 
the gnarled vine twisting among the trees^ 
and shook down the persimmons, wrinkled 
and sweetened by the first touch of the frost. 

Gee, iPs nice up here,’^ said Patsy, with 
a long-drawn breath of delight. ^^Red and 
yellow trees, and nuts and grapes, and — 
everything. I wisht we didn’t have to go 
back. I wisht we could stay here always, 
don’t you. Nan? ” 

I’ll bring you again, whenever you want 
to come,” said Nan. That’s the good part 
of having a coach. You can go wherever you 
please.” 

know,” said Patsy. ^^It’s almost as 
good as having legs. I wonder why God 
didn’t make my legs right. Nan,” he added, 
reflectively. 

‘‘I don’t know,” answered Nan, feeling 
Patsy had struck upon a point of theology 
that was too much for her. Sister Sera- 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


25 


phine said God always gives us what is best 
for us, so maybe legs wouldn’t be good for 
you, Patsy. You might run off somewhere, 
fishing or swimming, and get drowned.” 

^^N'o, I wouldn’t,” said Patsy, his pale 
little face flushing, excitedly. wouldn’t 
never do nothing like that. Nan. I’d run 
errands for you, and chop wood, and draw 
water. I’d never sass back, like Dave does 
sometimes. I’d be good to you. Nan, be- 
cause you’re so good to me. Nobody is good 
to me like you. Nan. You make me clothes,, 
and tell me stories, and buy me a fine coach 
like this. You ain’t ever a going away 
from me. Nan, are you? ” And the pale lit- 
tle face puckered up with sudden anxiety. 

Never,” answered Nan, heartily. ^^Vhat 
put such a funny thing in your head ? ” 

heard Milly talking, last night, when 
you was over helping Mrs. Carter. She was 
telling Dad I was too big for nussing now, 
and you weren’t no kin and it was time fur 
you to go away.” 


26 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


Milly said that ! * gasped Nan, breath- 
lessly. ^^What else, Patsy?” 

“ She thought I was asleep, but I heard 
her,” continued Patsy, nodding sagely. 

She said she wasn’t a going to work at the 
factory all day long to keep strange gals do- 
ing nothing at home. And Dad said you was 
getting bossy, and a hiding money from him 
when he wanted his beer. And Tim — 
‘^What did Tim say?” panted poor Nan, 
feeling as if her little world were shaking 
beneath her feet. 

Something bad,” answered Patsy, open- 
ing his blue eyes in solemn horror. Some- 
thing very bad. Nan. Must I tell you ? ” 
^^Yes, yes; tell me, Patsy, quick.” 

Tim said you were all that kept us from 
going to the devil,” replied Patsy, in a low 
voice. Tim is an awful bad boy, isn’t he. 
Nan? Oh, don’t go away from me. Nan. 
Milly would be cross and shake my bad 
shoulder. Don’t ever go away from me. 
Nan.” 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


27 


I won’t,” said Nan, her eyes flashing. 
‘‘1 guess I know better than to let Milly 
Farley lay her hands on you. A nice house 
it would be if it was left to her. Don’t you 
worry, Patsy. I ain’t ever a going to leave. 
I’ll stay by you forever and forever. And 
we’ll go riding and nutting and coasting 
till you get to be a man, Patsy, a big, strong 
man — like — like — ” Nan cast about her for 
an ideal type of manhood. 

Like Father Tom ’ ” interrupted Patsy, 
eagerly. 0 Nan ! will I ever be big and 
straight and strong like Father Tom ? ” 

Why not ? ” asked Nan, evasively. And 
then — then you’ll make lots of money, Patsy 
— big men always do ; and you’ll take care of 
me, Patsy.” 

Yes, yes, tell me about it. Nan,” said the 
little fellow, his puny face all aglow with in- 
terest. 

Nan seated herself on a mossy rock beside 
her, her thin hands clasped around her 
knees. 


28 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


We’ll have a house, big as Mrs. Carter’s ; 
and a nice, clean kitchen, and I’ll scour it 
every day. And we will have nice, hot soup, 
with a fresh bone in it for dinner ; and plenty 
of sugar in our tea, and maybe butter for 
supper, Patsy, nice yellow butter.” 

“ And oranges. Couldn’t we have oranges 
sometimes, ]^an? Oh, I love oranges.” 

^^A"ou might have an orange every Sun- 
day, Patsy. I wouldn’t want no such ex- 
travagance; apples would do me. I’d have 
an apple-tree at the door, and I’d make apple 
dumplings. And we’d have a parlor, with 
ruffled curtains to the windows; and a clock 
and two china dogs on the mantel.” 

^^0 Nan ! ” Patsy’s tone was one of bliss- 
ful perturbation, "^we couldn’t have all 
that.” 

‘^Yes, we could,” asserted Nan, stoutly. 

And I’ll cook and wash and iron, and dry 
apples; and we will go to church on Sunday, 
m good clothes — ” 

“ And shoes — nice, shiny shoes, Nan, with 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


29 


I no holes in them/^ interposed Patsy, breath- 
lessly. ‘^0 Nan ! it would be just as good as 
heaven, wouldn’t it?” 

^^No,” said Nan, shaking her head. It 
may sound that way, but it wouldn’t. Sister 
Seraphine said nothing could be as good as 
heaven. If 3 ^ou was to think all day, and all 
night, too, you couldn’t come near thinking 
how good it is. Not if you was to have 
oranges and apples and bananas every day, 
Patsy, it wouldn’t be anywhere near it. 

. Heaven is better than all the good things in 
! the world; and Sister Seraphine said, once 
you got there, nobody could take you away or 
i put you out of it. But here we are a fooling, 
I Patsy, and that bag of nuts we promised 
1 Davy ain’t filled yet.” And Nan started up 
I from her rock, and began to push in through 
the golden woods in search of richer harvest. 

I All the bright afternoon they lingered on 
the sun-kissed heights, and, when at last the 
little wanderers turned homeward through 
the lengthening shadows, Patsy’s coach was 


30 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


heavy with childhood's treasure trove — nuts 
and grapes and persimmons, boughs of gor- 
geous-hued leaves, old birds' nests, queer bits 
of lichened wood, and shining pebbles, 
smoothed by the dancing stream. 

Slowly and cautiously steering her car- 
riage down the hill, Nan was startled by the 
sight of a familiar little figure dashing madly 
up the road to meet her. 

Davy ! " she cried, with a presentiment 
of evil. 0 Davy, what is it ? " 

Eun ! " panted Davy, whose sandy hair 
was nearly standing on end, and whose blue 
eyes were popping with excitement. Gim- 
me the coach, and you cut and run. Nan. 
Dad's sold ye ! " 

Sold me 1 " echoed Nan, clutching the 
coach-handle, with a feeling that the earth 
was shaking beneath her feet. Sold me ! He 
couldn't — he dassent, Davy." 

He has," repeated Davy, breathlessly. 

Oh, 'deed he has. Nan. I heerd him. He 
got three hundred dollars for ye." 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


31 


Three hundred dollars ! said Nan. 

Who’d give three hundred dollars for me ? 
Three hundred dollars ! You’ve got things 
wrong, Dave. He was selling the house, I 
guess, or the cow — not me." 

'^No; it was you — ^you,” persisted Dave, 
desperately. I heerd him and the man talk- 
ing. And you was to be took away, and we 
was never to see or hear of you no more. The 
man said that, too. And he was going to 
give Dad three hundred dollars. I was hid- 
ing in the cupboard, and heerd it all." 

^^0 Nan! my Nan, my Nan," wailed 
Patsy. Dad shan’t sell my Nan." 

Don’t cry, Patsy dear, don’t cry," faltered 
poor Nan, all the vague fears that had dimly 
floated through her mind taking shape at 
this dire news. Don’t you skeer. Nobody 
can’t sell me. Did — did the man come from 
the poorhouse, Dave?" 

^^No," answered Dave; ‘^he come in the 
keers. And he had a watch, for I seen him 
look at it. And he said he was going right 


32 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


back, far away somewhere, and take you ’long. 
And we all wasn’t never to ask to see you no 
more, fur that was the bargain. An’ he paid 
Dad three hundred dollars. I seen him. Dad 
was bound to sell something. I heerd him 
say so yesterday,” explained Dave. I guess 
he thought he’d better let you go than the 
cow. And three hundred dollars is a lot of 
money. Nan.” 

Oh, oh, oh ! ” wailed poor little Patsy, as 
the three children paused in the fading sun- 
light, while the shadows gathering in the val- 
ley below seemed waiting to engulf them in 
new and terrible gloom. 

Run, Nan, run, run !” cried the two lit- 
tle ones, desperately. 

Nan hesitated. She could remember old 
black Chloe, who had worked in the poor- 
house, and the stories the old woman had told 
of slave days, when she had been bought and 
sold. Standing there in the gathering twi- 
light, the whole dreadful situation seemed to 
flash upon our poor little heroine: 


A Ride and Its Ending. 


33 


No tea, no sugar, Finnegan’s bill, drunken 
Dad, heartless Milly — ah ! Nan thought she 
saw it all. She was to be the victim sacri- 
ficed for the dire family need. She was to be 
sold instead of the cow, that they might live 
and eat. 

Poor, little, ignorant Nan! In the wild 
surge of helpless terror that swept over her, 
one figure alone rose strong, calm, and up- 
right, to protect, to defend. 

Father Tom !” she panted, with a hard 
dry sob. Oh, he will take keer of me. 
Here, ketch on to Patsy’s coach, Dave, and 
don’t upset him. I’m going — I’m going 
straight to Father Tom.” 


CHAPTEE III. 

UNCLE JACK. 

Father Tom had company, this evening. 
A wood-fire blazed cheerfully in the little 
rectory study, there were cigars upon the 
table, and Father Tom, seated in his big 
arm-chair, was doing his best to entertain his 
guest, a sturdy, middle-aged gentleman, evi- 
dently of choleric temper, who, regardless of 
the good priest’s soothing words, was strid- 
ing up and down the room in great excite- 
ment. 

The drunken boor ! I don’t know how I 
kept my hands off him. To think of Amy’s 
child — my sister’s child — drudging in a 
hovel like that! Good heaven, sir! It’s 
maddening — simply maddening ! ” 

But, my dear friend, you can make it all 
right now.” 


34 


Uncle Jack. 


35 


I can’t, sir ; I can’t,^’ answered the other, 
mopping his flushed brow. can't undo 
the past. I can’t take my dead sister out of 
her pauper’s grave. I can’t strike out the 
years of misery and poverty that have made 
her poor child — I dare not think what. That 
clodhopper told me she had cost him at least 
six dollars for shoes — six dollars in as many 
years, and he was trying to drive a bargain 
at that — and he calculated her food at less 
than it costs me to feed a dog. Amy’s child ! 
And she has been drudge and scullion in that 
hovel since shetcould stand alone; while I — ” 
^^My dear Captain Leighton, don’t re- 
proach yourself,” said Father Tom, gently. 

Remember, you have been absent for years, 
and it was impossible for you to know all 
this. It was through no fault of yours — ” 
Aye, sir, it was — it was,” interrupted the 
Captain, almost flercely. Wasn’t I a hot- 
headed idiot to poor Amy ? Didn’t I tell her 
that if she married that young fool, Knowl- 
ton, I would never speak to her again? 


36 


Uncle Jack. 


Didn’t I start off the day of her wedding 
without a good wish or a good-by to the poor 
little girl? Didn’t I stay at the ends of the 
earth, a heartless, soulless money-grubber, 
while she suffered and starved and died? 
And now I come home — home — with a round 
million — home, thinking and planning how 
I can bless and brighten her life. I find that 
Amy has lain for ten years in a poorhouse 
grave. And her child ! — God forgive me, for 
I can never forgive myself — her child is a 
drudge in the beggar’s hovel I have just 
left — a hovel where I wouldn’t stable my 
horse. But I’ll make it up to her,” said the 
Captain, clearing his voice. ^^With God’s 
help. I’ll make it up to her. She shall never 
know another pain or want or care. I will 
make her forget all that is past.” 

Forget!” repeated Father Tom, think- 
ing of the little wild-eyed figure standing 
on defense of Patsy that very afternoon, I 
fear it will be hard for Nan to forget. Old 
ties are hard to break.” 


Uncle Jack. 


37 


Old ties ! ” said the Captain, flushing ex- 
citedly. Great heaven, sir, what ties can 
Amy^s child have to the life she has known? 
To that beggar’s hovel ! that beggar’s brood ! 
She shall never see — never hear of them 
again. I will take care of that. I’ve bought 
that boor Farley off on his own terms. Three 
hundred dollars, he asked; three hundred 
dollars would square him up, he said, and he 
would agree never to trouble me again. And 
he had better not,” added the Captain, fierce- 
ly. I paid him his price, and told him we 
were done with him and his forever. If he 
ever made any claim upon my niece, I’d — I’d 
break his neck ! ” And the Captain strode 
across the study-floor, blowing off his wrath 
as a big boat blows off steam, and, as Father 
Tom well knew, meaning no harm to any- 
body. 

For the blue eyes, shaded by the Captain’s 
shaggy, iron-gray brows, were soft and tender 
as a woman’s, and the strong mouth, hidden 
by the bushy iron-gray beard was quivering 


38 


Uncle Jack. 


now with grief and pain. That Father Tom 
understood, as big men understand each 
other, and the Captain might have blurted 
out almost anything without shocking the 
good priest in the least. 

It seems to me, you were unnecessarily 
generous,^’ said Father Tom. Farley has 
no claim upon the child at all. His wife, 
who was a very worthy woman, took her to 
assist in the care of a little cripple.” 

‘^^Aye; so they told me, at — at the poor- 
house,” answered the Captain, his voice 
growing husky again. I’ve heard the story, 
sir — the whole wretched story, when they 
gave me the little box of papers that poor 
Amy left in case any one ever asked for her. 
And I gave the superintendent my opinion 
pretty frankly. Talk about child slavery! 
Sending a mite of seven out to nurse a crip- 
pled beggar ! By George, sir, if I think this 
matter over I’ll go otf into an apoplexy. My 
head has been in a fume all day. Eh, God 
bless me ! what’s that ? ” 


Uncle Jack. 


39 


That ” was a shriek and scuffle in the hall 
without, that made both gentlemen start for- 
ward in alarm. 

Stop, 3^e rapscallion, stop ! Don’t I tell 
je his riverence has company widin? Mur- 
ther, murther, was there iver the likes of 
her ? ” came the tones of Biddy Flynn, Father 
Tom’s housekeeper. 

I will go in ! I will, I will ! ” cried a 
fresh, clear, young voice. Father Tom, 
Father Tom ! ” And the study-door was 
burst open desperately, and there, struggling 
in Biddy’s grasp, upon the threshold, was 
a little, wild-eyed, tangle-haired, smutty- 
faced creature, a ragged red shawl trailing 
from her shoulders, and her form trembling 
piteously as a hunted hare’s. 

— I couldn’t kape her out, yer river, 
ence,” panted the housekeeper. She’s been 
fighting me like a wildcat to get in here to 
ye.-' 

Father Tom, Father Tom, oh, help me^ 
save me, take care of me! Please, Father 


40 


Uncle Jack. 


Tom, send me to Sister Seraphine. Oh, I’ll 
work. I’ll scrub. I’ll wash. I’ll milk. I’ll do 
anything; bnt, oh, don’t let Dad Farley sell 
me, please, please. Father Tom ! ” 

Nan, Nan, my poor child, be quiet,” said 
Father Tom, soothingly, for Nan had flung 
herself on her knees, with her face buried in 
her hands, and was shaking from head to 
foot. You don’t understand. Nan.” 

" Oh, I do, I do,” sobbed Nan. Finne- 
gan wants his money, and there ain’t any 
sugar or tea in the house, and they don’t 
want to sell the cow, and they are going to 
sell me for three — three — three hundred — 
dollars,” wailed Nan, with a fresh outburst. 

Sell you,” laughed Father Tom, you 
poor little goose ! Sell you. Nan ! ” 

Oh, yes, yes ; and I’ll never see Patsy or 
nobody again, never — never — n-e-v-e-r !” 

Nan, my dear little child, listen. Stop 
crying, and listen to me. Nan. Such a bless- 
ing has come to you, my child! Look up. 
Nan, look at this good gentleman beside me. 


Uncle Jack. 


41 


He is your uncle — ^your dear mother^s 
brother. It was he who just now generously 
paid three hundred dollars to those who had 
given you poor shelter and care all these 
years. It is he who has come to claim you 
for his own little girl, to take you to a happy, 
comfortable home, to love and care for you, 
Nan.^’ 

^^Aye, aye, my little girl — my poor little 
girl,” murmured Captain Leighton, huskily, 
for he had nearly lost breath as well as 
speech at ISTan’s appearance. My lost 
Amy^s little girl ! Look up at your Uncle 
Jack.” 

And then Nan lifted her head, and looked 
into the kind blue eyes that were swimming 
with tears beneath their shaggy brows; for 
in the little smut-stained face, the big gray 
eyes, the tangled curls, the quivering lips. 
Uncle Jack saw again the eyes and hair and 
face and lips of the dear little sister who had 
been his pet, his care, his plaything, in the 
long ago. 


42 


Uncle Jack. 


And before Nan conld quite understand it 
all, she was clasped in strong arms, and held 
close to the loving heart that was to be 
henceforth her shelter against all sorrow and 
toil and trouble — her home and queendom 
forever. 

The rest of that evening was like a dream 
to Nan. Such a sun of love and care and ten- 
derness had risen upon her young life, that 
the strange new light dazzled and bewildered 
her. For, with his strong, kind arm around 
her trembling little form. Uncle Jack told 
her how he had been looking for her more 
than a year; how glad and thankful he was 
to have found his dear sister’s little girl at 
last ; how he was going to take her away with 
him, and give her pretty dresses and boots 
and bonnets, and birds and kittens and 
ponies. There was no end to the things 
Uncle Jack promised, in his pity for that 
pale, tearful, half-starved little face that 
looked into his own. 

And then good Mrs. Flynn, at Father 


Uncle Jack. 


43 


Tom’s suggestion, bore Nan off to supper, 
and she had tea and buttered cakes and baked 
apples with cream, while the worthy house- 
keeper kept up a fire of wondering questions 
and ejaculations at the events of the evening. 

Holy Mother, I niver heard the likes. 
Your own born uncle, ye say, and as illegant 
a gentleman as I iver seen. It’s down on yer 
knees ye ought to be this minnit. Nan, thank- 
ing God for His mercies to ye. And a car- 
riage and pair waiting at the door for him, 
and not a dacint rag to yer back, and yer 
nose blacked like a chimney-sweep. Shure 
the luck has changed for ye this day, ye poor 
innocent, it has indade. Have another sup 
of the tay, child ? Ye luk as if the breath was 
sthruck out of ye, and no wonder. And 
where is he going to take yez froiji this?” 

Oh, I don’t know — I don’t know,” an- 
swered Nan, tremulously. ^^He says he is 
going to get me everything, Mrs. Flynn — 
boots and dresses and bonnets, a kitten and 
a pony. Oh, it’s so nice to have an uncle — 


44 


Uncle Jack. 


a real uncle. 0 Mrs. Flynn ! hasn’t he got a 
fine coat, and a gold watch, and everything 
clean and shining ? And he kissed me. No- 
body ever kissed me before, but Patsy. 0 
Patsy! poor, poor little Patsy, 0 Mrs. 
Flynn! if my uncle would only take Patsy, 
too ! ” 

^^AVhisht, now, whisht,” said the good 
woman, anxiously. Don’t ye go blathering 
like a little fool about Patsy 1 Do ye think 
it’s a whole orphan asylum your uncle is 
afther ? Patsy, indade ! What would a fine 
illigant gentleman like that be doing wid 
beggars loike the Farleys?” 

Oh, I can’t give up Patsy,” said Nan, 
choking up. I don’t know what he will do 
without me.” 

Come, ' Nan, the carriage is waiting. 
Your uncle wants to catch the next train,” 
called Father Tom, cheerily, from the hall. 
And before poor, little, dazed Nan could 
quite realize the situation, Mrs. Flynn had 
whisked her off to her own room, bathed her 


Uncle Jack. 


45 


face, brushed her hair, pinned her red shawl 
neatly about her neck, tied a comfortable 
gray knit hood of her own over Nan^s cnrls, 
and hurried the bewildered girl to the door, 
where Uncle Jack, muffled in a big ulster, 
was waiting impatiently. 

“ Come, my little girl, come ! Only ten 
minutes ! Good-by, Father, and thank you 
for your kindness. You will hear from me 
again.” 

Good-by, good-by, and God bless you, my 
little l^an ! ” And the priestly hand was 
placed for a moment in blessing on the gray 
hood, and, sobbing, she scarcely knew why, 
FTan found herself lifted into a soft-cushioned 
carriage, and whirled olf through the starlit 
night, far from the little cabin on the hill- 
side, from the old ties, the old love, the old 
want and work and woes, forever. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A NEW HOME. 

And still feeling as if she were in a dream, 
Nan found herself at the station, amid flash- 
ing lights and shouting porters and clanging 
bells and shrieking whistles, and listened, 
dazed and breathless, while Uncle Jack 
stormed because the train was late, he 
couldn’t get a sleeper, and swore that he 
would rather travel in Madagascar than in 
such a benighted land as this; for the sight 
of his dead sister’s neglected Nan had so torn 
Uncle Jack’s heart with remorse and tender- 
ness, that he was obliged to thunder off the 
pain at somebody or something. 

And then Nan, who had never been in the 
cars in her poor little life, was lifted into a 
beautiful Pullman parlor car that seemed 
all gold and mirrors and cushions, and was 
46 


A New Home. 


47 


whirled away through the dim starlight. It 
was as if she had been caught up into an- 
other world, everything was so strange and 
beautiful and new. Nan really couldn’t find 
words to speak. She could only stare with 
wide-open eyes at everything — the lights, the 
gilding, the silken draperies ; at Uncle Jack, 
so big and handsome in his great ulster; at 
the brass-buttoned porter, who brought her 
fruit and pretty little cakes and wonderful 
sugar plums that seemed far too good to eat. 
She could not realize that henceforth noth- 
ing would be too good for Uncle Jack’s little 
girl. 

And as the train swept on, whirling 
through the forests and valleys, thundering 
through the mountain gorges, leaping the 
mountain streams. Uncle Jack told her 
stories — stories that to poor little Nan’s un- 
accustomed ear seemed as wild and unreal as 
any Arabian Night’s” dream — about the 
big house he had bought in the country, and 
the horses, the dogs, the swans, the peacocks. 


48 


A New Home. 


the greenhouses where flowers bloomed all the 
year round, the river where she could sail and 
swim and row. 

For we can^t think of school just yet/’ 
said Uncle Jack, positively. You must get 
strong and well, and rosy and fat, and learn 
to forget — forget all that is past. That is all 
Uncle Jack will ask of you, my little girl, 
never to speak, never to think of the life you 
leave behind you to-night. It is gone, gone 
forever; and you are to be gay and glad and 
rosy and happy, and never have a care or 
trouble again.” 

^^And won’t — ^won’t I ever see Patsy no 
more? ” faltered Uan, in a low voice. 

Never!” thundered Uncle Jack, quite 
unconscious of the blow that he was adminis- 
tering ; for to him Nan’s past seemed a record 
of want and woe that had not a brightening 
gleam. Never I If I catch any of that 
Farley crew near you,” and here I am afraid 
Uncle Jack forgot himself and swore a big 
round sailor oath, ^^I’ll break their heads! 


A New Home. 


49 


You are my little girl now, and you must for- 
get everything else.” 

Forget — forget ! Ah, sturdy Uncle Jack 
had learned many things in his fifty years of 
busy life — secrets of the earth, of the sea, of 
the stars, of the heart of man, and the heart 
of woman — ^but he had yet to learn the depths 
of love and faith and tenderness that can 
dwell in the heart of a little girl — when he 
told Nan to forget.” 

All night long the train thundered on, 
while Nan, whose wide-open eyes had closed 
at last, lay snuggled up under Uncle Jack^s 
traveling-rug, dreaming of the old cabin on 
the hillside, Patsy’s shrill call from the fence, 
the coach-ride up the mountain, the terrified 
flight to Father Tom. 

Patsy, Patsy ! ” was the cry upon her 
lips, as she started up to find the sunlight 
streaming in her window, and Uncle Jack 
calling : 

Come, my little girl, come ! We are al- 
most home.” 


50 


A New Home. 


And still half-awake, she was hurried 
from the cars into a carriage, and whirled 
away over smooth country roads, to a big, 
beautiful house — a house with great pillared 
porticos, and shading oaks, and wide lawns 
stretching to a blue river, flashing and gleam- 
ing below — a house that, to Nan’s bewildered 
eyes, seemed a fairy-palace rising out of the 
rosy glory of the morn. 

As the carriage swept up to the door. Un- 
cle Jack’s dogs came leaping and barking to 
meet him, men servants and maid servants 
appeared from stable and garden and kitch- 
en, and quite a stately old personage in 
black silk gown and marvelous cap stood curt- 
sying in the open hall, as Uncle Jack led 
ragged little Nan, in her red shawl and gray 
hood, across his threshold. 

Here she is, Mrs. Bunch ! I have found 
my sister’s little girl at last, and brought her 
home to you. Good people all, here’s a little 
mistress for you— my niece. Miss Nanny 
Knowlton, the lady of Oakhurst Hall.” 


A Neto Home. 


51 


glad and happy I am to see her/^ 
said Mrs. Bunch, sweeping another curtsy 
that made her silken skirts rustle prodigious- 
ly, while poor little Nan stood quite awe- 
struck at her grandeur. ^^Your telegram 
came last night, and the rooms are ready, and 
with your leave, sir. I’ll take my little lady 
up, for she must be tired after her long 
night ride.” 

And then Nan, who had never had even a 
pillow to call her own, was led through the 
broad hall, with its great deer antlers and 
bearskin rugs, and idols and images, and 
shields, and ivory tusks, and all sorts of queer 
things Uncle Jack had gathered from afar, 
and up the wide polished stairs, lighted by a 
beautiful painted window, into a room, which, 
Mrs. Bunch said, with another awful curtsy, 
had been warming and airing by the master’s 
orders all night. 

Such a rosy, cozy, beautiful room, with its 
pretty chintz draperies and soft-cushioned 
chairs. Such a snow-drift of a bed, piled 


52 


A New Home. 


with dainty ruffled pillows ! Such a log fire, 
cracking and blazing on big brass andirons 
that winked back its glow! Such a warm, 
sweet, sheltered nest for a poor little wind- 
tossed bird! 

Youfil find the bath in here. Miss,” said 
Mrs. Bunch, opening a door and showing a 
shimmer of white tiles and silver beyond, 
and Ifil have your trunk sent up in a mo- 
ment; and if you would like me to do your 
hair, or anything of that sort. Miss — I was 
head nurse at Lady Lowbray’s in my own 
country. Miss, and had a clever hand with 
little misses like yourself — ” 

Oh, oh, oh ! ” — Mrs. Bunch stopped ab- 
ruptly, for Nan had dropped into a chair be- 
fore the fire, and buried her head in her 
hands — want to go home, I want to go 
home ! ” 

Dearie, dear ! ” gasped Mrs. Bunch, who, 
being a recent importation, found it some- 
what difficult to retain proper English deco- 
rum in face of American oddities. 


A New Home. 


53 


I ain’t no little lady/’ blurted forth Nan, 
sobbing. Somehow Mrs. Bunch, with her 
cap and gown and curtsy, was the last straw 
that broke the long strain upon overwrought 
heart and brain and nerves. And I ain’t 
got no trunk nor no clothes, nor nothing. Oh, 
I ain’t fit for a room like this. I want to go 
back to Patsy, my own, poor little Patsy. 
There’s nobody to cook or wash or sew for 
him, or to take him out riding. Oh, I want 
to go home, I want to go home ! ” 

My dear, my dear, this won’t do, this 
won’t do at all ! ” And Mrs. Bunch, who 
had a good, motherly old heart beneath her 
imported manners,” spoke in a new tone of 
soothing kindness. ^^You couldn’t find a 
better home than this if you searched the 
whole world for it, nor a finer, nobler gentle- 
man than its master, your kind, good uncle. 
You’re tired and nervous now, my dear, that’s 
all, and worried and worn out ; and I’ll bring 
you up some nice tea and toast, and then you 
must let old Mother Bunch — that is what my 


54 


A New Home. 


little ladies called me in the old country — ^you 
must let old Mother BuncK undress you and 
put you to bed, to rest until luncheon.” 

And when Mother Bunch dropped her 
English style and simper and curtsy, she 
was such a good, strong, kind, warm-hearted, 
sensible old woman, that nervous, tired little 
Nan yielded almost unconsciously to her will, 
and she was soon snuggled up among soft 
blankets and ruffled pillows and downy coun- 
terpanes, sleeping as became the little mis- 
tress of Oakhurst Hall. 

* , * Hs * * 

Well, and how is my little girl now, Mrs. 
Bunch? ” asked Uncle Jack, who was pacing 
the quarter-deck, — as he called the big hall — 
when his housekeeper came down the stairs. 

''Sleeping nicely, sir,” was the answer. 
" I gave her a little drop of something quiet- 
ing with her tea, for her nerves were all un- 
strung. A pretty little creature she is, sir, 
but, if I may make bold to say so, sore in 
need of kindness and care.” 


A New Home. 


55 


Aye, she is, she is ! ” answered Uncle 
Jack, his voice growing husky. ^^And I 
will make it worth your while to give it to 
her, Mrs. Bunch. Consider your wages 
raised ten dollars from this morning, madam, 
for any extra trouble you may have with my 
niece.” 

Thank you, sir, thank you,” said the good 
woman, curtsying. Though I’m sure its 
not of extra trouble or extra money I was 
thinking when I spoke; but it went to my 
heart, it did, indeed, sir, to see the way that 
poor little creature must have been neglected, 
Not a whole bit of clothes, nor an ounce of 
flesh upon her poor little body — she is noth- 
ing but rags and bones.” 

Uncle Jack began to pace his quarter-deck 
restlessly. 

She is ill, you think? Wants a doctor? 
I’ll send Denison right up.” 

0 dear, no, sir ; it’s not doctoring she 
wants ; it’s feeding, sir.” 

" Feed her, then, madam ! God bless me. 


56 


A New Home. 


feed her ! Get her wine, broth, cream, any- 
thing she can eat. Tempt her with every- 
thing children like— apples, grapes, pud- 
dings, oranges. I’ll buy that Alderney that 
Lambert has for sale this very day, so she 
can have the best of milk. Feed her, madam ! 
Make my little Nan fat and rosy and strong, 
and you shall have the finest gold watch in 
town for a Christmas gift. As for clothes — 
here, madam.” Uncle Jack went down 
into his pocket and brought out a roll of 
bills. 

Take the carriage, and go to town and buy 
them for her — plenty of them — don’t stint. 
If that isn’t money enough, call for more. 
I want her to have everything — boots and 
bonnets and frocks; nice, soft, warm, fiuffy 
things, like the little Lamberts wear — plenty 
of frills and ribbons and gimcracks. Don’t 
mind the money, Mrs. Bunch. When I think 
of the way that poor little girl has been half- 
starved and half-frozen, I feel ” — Uncle Jack 
choked up for a minute before he could go 


A New Home. 


57 ' 


on — I feel as if I would like to spend my 
whole million on her right now.” 

In the warmth of such tenderness as this, 
it was no wonder that our little Nan soon be- 
gan to blossom and brighten like a flower in 
the springtime sun. Mother Bunch was 
not a bad guide in the paths of gentility, and 
Nan was quick to learn, for she was a lady 
born. In less than two weeks from her arri- 
val at Oakhurst, the red-brown curls were 
caught back in pretty ripples from an arch, 
winsome little face, that already had the faint 
flush of an apple-blossom, and Nan, in her 
dark-blue sailor suit, was skipping down the 
broad stairs, pacing the ^^quarter-deck,” at 
Uncle Jack^s side, making cakes and pud- 
dings and Jellies with Mrs. Bunch in the 
housekeeper’s pantry, feeding the dogs, rid- 
ing the horses, sailing the boat — in short, 
had fitted into the situation as only a clever 
little girl creature can; for a girl will know 
six different ways of fixing her hair while her 
big brother is learning to brush his shoes. 


58 


A Neio Home. 


And if Nan had been a boy — well. Uncle 
Jack would have found things vastly more 
uncomfortable. As it was, though Nan 
sometimes mixed the uses of knife and fork, 
and her moods and tenses were not all they 
should be, she caught up things with as- 
tonishing rapidity, and before the last leaves 
had drifted down from the sheltering trees 
the little mistress of Oakhurst Hall was quite 
at home.^^ 

She is learning to forget,’’ thought Uncle 
Jack, as he saw the rose deepening in her 
cheek, and the light growing in her eye, and 
the merry smile dimpling her rounding face. 
My little girl is learning — to forget.” 

Ah, Uncle Jack little guessed the dreams 
that came nightly to Nan’s pillow, or the 
confidences poured into good Mother Bunch’s 
ears in the privacy of the housekeeper’s 
pantry. 

0 Mother Bunch ! do you think I will 
ever see my poor little Patsy again?” Nan 
would ask, after she had told all the toils 


A New Home. 


59 


and trials and troubles of the little hillside 
cabin. Will Uncle Jack ever let me see 
him again ? ” 

And Mother Bunch, who was a wise old 
woman and had been taught in her own coun- 
try to keep the closet doors shut tight on 
family skeletons, vrould answer evasively : 

Oh, yes, my dear, sometime, no doubt. But 
your uncle has paid these people well, you 
say, and — and — well, I wouldn’t trouble him 
about them just now. Not — ^just — now.” 


CHAPTER V. 


THE LITTLE LADY OF OAKHURST. 

It was no wonder that Uncle Jack felt 
sore about his little girPs past, for the Leigh- 
tons had been a proud old family for genera- 
tions ; but sad changes had come to them in 
Uncle Jack^s youth; the Civil War had swept 
away fortune, friends, and home, and for 
years the young sailor was the sole guardian 
and support of the little sister Amy, who was 
nearly twenty years his junior. 

But the Leightons were a self-willed race, 
and when pretty Amy persisted in marrying 
one whom Uncle Jack savagely termed a 
worthless fool, hot and bitter things were 
said on both sides, and, in the fierce wrath 
of one whose tenderest heart chords were 
torn. Uncle Jack had sailed away, as he be- 
lieved, never to return. 

60 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


61 


For years he had wandered in far-off coun- 
tries — Africa, Australia, the East Indies — 
until, with wealth beyond his wishes, a heart- 
sick longing came over him for home. Time 
had softened his bitterness. He would go 
home to Amy — he would bless and brighten 
her life with his hard-earned gold. 

And he had returned to find only the poor- 
house grave, and little half-starved beggar 
Han — Han, who with her mothers hair, her 
mothers eyes, her mother’s lips, stirred his 
big heart into pity, remorse and tenderness. 

This new Amy must have all — all that her 
mother had lost, all that his wealth could 
buy, all that the world could give. 

And from the rosy day-dawn, when Han 
crossed his threshold. Uncle Jack began to 
dream and plan as in his busy life he had 
never dreamed and planned before. A jeal- 
ous pride for his little girl woke in his heart. 
He winced at the thought of the boorish 
Farley, and the cabin on the hillside, and all 
poor Han’s vulgar, wretched past. 


62 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


‘^But she will forget it all — I will make 
her forget it,” said Uncle Jack to himself, as 
he paced his " quarter-deck.” I will give 
her a year to grow rosy and strong and happy, 
and then the best schools, the best teachers, 
the best masters. And she will learn — by 
George, my little Nan has the head to learn 
everything. She shall be the star and queen 
of the whole Leighton line.” 

Meanwhile, quite unconscious of all these 
brilliant plans for her future. Nan was mak- 
ing acquaintances for herself in the friendly 
old fashion of the little cabin on the hill. 

She soon knew all the horses and dogs by 
name. The great St. Bernard, Lear, always 
stalked out of his palatial kennel at Nan’s 
voice. Job, Uncle Jack’s old gray monkey, 
awoke from his doze in the big palm when 
she entered the greenhouse, and turned a 
rheumatic somersault — to shake hands. The 
parrot fairly raised the house with his new 
shriek of Nan, Nan, Polly w^ants Nan ! ” 
Then there was Con, the stable boy, whose 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


63 


blue eyes had a look that recalled Patsy’s; 
and Wertha, the Norwegian dairymaid, with 
her long, fair plaits and her queer, broken 
English ; and Mat, the old one-legged ship- 
mate of Captain Jack, who jobbed around 
house and garden and stable, doing anything 
or nothing, as he pleased. Nan was friends 
with them all. 

With Mat, Nan had an especial bond of in- 
terest, since Uncle Jack’s first introduction 
had been : 

Shipmate, here’s a little craft that flies 
your Pope’s colors.” 

^^God be praised for that, sir,” Mat had 
answered, heartily, “ an’ I’m sure you’re not 
one of the pirates to make her ever pull thim 
down.” 

^^No,” said Uncle Jack, carelessly; ^^they 
are good enough colors in their way, and I 
have promised they shall stick to the mast. 
So, as she is in strange waters here, you must 
pilot her around. You can have the light 
carriage on Sunday morning. I believe there 


64 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


is a Catholic church at Denley, and I can 
trust you to look out for her, I know/^ 

You can, sir,’^ said Mat. And from that 
moment Mat kept his eye on the little lad}", 
who was indeed in strange waters, as he 
knew. Every Sunday morning, rain or 
shine, the light carriage was at the door, with 
old Mat, scrubbed and pipe-clayed,^^ as he 
expressed it, on the driver’s seat. The little 
Chapel of St. Agnes was five miles from Oak- 
hurst, but if it had been fifteen Nan would 
have gone all the same ; for old Mat was not 
the pilot to stop for wind or tide. 

“The Captain is the finest man that ever 
walked a deck,” explained Mat to Father 
Paul; “but he is the black heretic for all 
that, an’ I mane to kape the little misthress 
in the straight way to hiven, since he gave 
me lave. We will be here next Sunday, 
Father, and ye can do the rest.” 

And every Sunday the congregation of St. 
Agnes saw the curiously mated pair in the 
first pew, duly rented by Uncle Jack: the 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


65 


Tugged-faced old sailor, who stumped on his 
one leg up the aisle, and the pretty little girl, 
whose red-brown hair was surmounted by a 
plumed hat of the latest Paris fashion, who 
was wrapped in soft, fluffy things to her 
pink-tipped ears, who always dropped a dol- 
lar in the poor-box as she passed. 

It’s a dale. Miss,” hTan’s pilot ” said 
doubtfully. Ye can do as ye plase with 
what the Captain gives ye av coorse, but a 
dollar isn’t looked fur ivery week, let me tell 

ye.” 

Oh, but it goes to people that have no 
tea or milk or sugar. Mat, and maybe bills 
at the corner grocery they can’t pay, and lit- 
tle children without shoes. Oh, you don’t 
know what it is to be like that. I do. Mat, 
I do.” 

"Whisht now. Miss, whisht,” Mat, who 
knew all, would answer in a stage whisper. 

Shure that’s all past and gone, and it’s only 
breaking your heart and the Captain’s to be 
talking about it. It’s fine winds and fine 


66 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


weather for ye now, Miss, and don^t be think- 
in’ of the black clouds that is past.” 

So the bright fall days wore on, each one 
bringing some new beauty and gladness into 
Nan’s life. It was all like a fairy-tale; the 
pretty, soft dresses hanging in her wardrobe ; 
the dainty boots and furs and mufflers and 
gloves; the chicken and oysters and cream, 
and goodies generally, with which Mother 
Bunch was always tempting her; the walks, 
the drives, the romps with Uncle Jack; the 
warmth, the shelter, and, oh, the strong, pro- 
tecting love above, beneath, around all. For 
many little girls, this sunshine would have 
banished every shadow of the past, and they 
would gladly have forgotten the dreary days 
in the little cabin on the hill, with all their 
want and worry and work. 

But though Nan’s cheeks grew round and 
rosy, and her eyes lost their troubled look, 
there was a little cry, never stilled in her 
faithful heart. 

Patsy, oh, what was Patsy doing without 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


67 


her? Was Milly making and mending and 
caring for her nursling? Was Uncle Jack’s 
three hundred dollars spent yet ? ” 

And in her sleep the old burdens would fall 
upon j^an, and she would wake from troubled 
dreams of Finnegan’s bill and the empty lar- 
der, and start from her downy pillows think- 
ing it was time to go to Mrs. Carter’s and 
work for Patsy’s coach. Then, as her wak- 
ing gaze fell upon her beautiful room, with 
its sunny draperies and gleaming firelight, 
she would whisper to herself, almost with a 
sob : 

Oh Patsy ! my poor, little, lame Patsy, if 
he were only here too, safe and happy and 
warm! 0 poor little Patsy! Maybe he is 
hungry and lonely and cold, while I have 
all this.” 

And Nan’s faithful little heart would 
ache sorely, and her eyes would fill with 
tears that only the angels could see. 

Meanwhile, as all adjustments to strange 
conditions are more or less awkward. Nan’s 


68 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


new life had its adventures, and some of 
them were of quite an exciting character, as 
we shall see. 

She had been four weeks at Oakhurst, and 
it was November. For several days there had 
been a dreary rain, and it seemed as if indeed 

“ The melancholy days had come 
The saddest of the year,” 

when suddenly, with a warm burst of the 
south wind, came the beautiful St. Martin’s 
summer, and all the dreariness without woke 
into strange sweetness and light. 

A golden haze rested upon the bare, brown 
earth ; the air was filled with spicy perfumes ; 
the birds paused im their southward fiight to 
sing again in the leafiess groves; even a few 
little trusting violets opened their blue eyes 
in the sheltered hollows. 

It was such a season as perhaps comes to 
dear old grandmamma, when, seated in her 
chimney-corner, her knitting drops for a 
while from her hands, and, with a 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


69 


faint flush upon her wrinkled face, she feels 
again the touch of baby fingers, hears the 
prattle of baby lips, and forgets that the frost 
has touched all life’s flowers, and that she is 
old and feeble and gray. 

But our N’an was no grandmother, but a 
very lively little woman of twelve, for whom 
• St. Martin’s summer, with its sweet, dreamy 
spell, had an especial bewitchment. 

Uncle Jack had gone to town, and, as 
Uncle Jack always came back from town 
with some delightful surprise for his little 
girl. Nan found his trips cit3'ward occasions 
for pleasant reflection. 

Would it be a canary-bird, or a shaggy 
poodle, to-day? Uncle Jack had dropped 
hints of both. Or perhaps — perhaps a pony, 
the pony which she had heard him discussing 
with Mat — a pony that never shied or stum- 
bled or kicked or departed in any way from 
the narrow path of pony virtue, and that 
could be trusted to carry a little girl safe as if 
she were in her mother’s arms. That was the 


70 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


sort of pony for which Uncle Jack was look- 
ing, and Nan had grave doubts whether it 
could be found in this wicked world. 

But life was bright enough without a pony 
to-day, with the bare hills all veiled in gold- 
en mists, the river flashing and dimpling un- 
der the penciled tracery of the leafless 
boughs, as if daring old J ack Frost to lay his 
touch upon its dancing waves, grim old Jack 
who was lying in wait upon the mountain, 
with icy gyves in his pitiless hands even now. 

The water had a wonderful fascination for 
Nan, and since her coming to Oakhurst she 
had been out in the little rowboat almost 
daily with either Uncle Jack or Mat, who had 
taught her already to handle the oars. But 
Uncle Jack was away, and Mat busy to-day 
pottering around the greenhouse that had 
been somewhat damaged by the recent storm. 
Trusting to her newly acquired skill. Nan 
jumped into the little boat that lay tossing at 
its moorings under the alders, and, loosening 
the rope, paddled down the stream. 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


71 


There was scarcely need of an oar, so light- 
ly and swiftly was she borne over the dancing 
waves, in gay unconsciousness of the deep 
undertone in their murmur, the strong voice 
of many waters sweeping down from the 
mountains, where rill and streamlet were 
swollen into foaming torrents by the heavy 
November rains. On and on swept the little 
cockle-shell of a skiff, as Nan fondly believed, 
under her guiding helm and oar, while the 
warm south wind tossed the curls beneath her 
sailor hat, and the sunbeams kissed her cheek 
into a deeper rose, and the voice of the waters 
grew hoarser and louder as the river heard 
the call of the sea. 

How long Nan rowed on she never knew, 
for in the delight and novelty of the situation 
she took no account of passing time. At last 
a darkening of the sky, a freshening of the 
wind, warned her she had better turn home. 
But in vain she tried to steer her little boat 
up stream. It only spun round and round 
in the swift current that had so gaily carried 


72 


The Little Lady of Oakhurst. 


her down. Nan’s little wrists were wiry, and 
she bent sturdily to oar and helm, but it 
would have taken a man’s strength and skill 
to breast the fierce downward rush of the 
swollen stream. And the sky was growing 
darker each moment; the light clouds, that 
had glimmered like snow-capped naountains 
in the sunlight, now rose into great, black, 
frowning ridges, that flashed and muttered 
ominously. The frightened little sailor 
made another desperate effort to steer her 
boat, but the oar snapped beneath her hand, 
the little skiff whirled round like a teetotum 
in the whitening waves, as with a crash and 
blaze the great black clouds opened fire, and 
Nan was adrift in the storm. 


CHAPTEE VI. 

NEW FRIENDS. 

On and on, through roar and flash and 
blinding rain and spray, swept the little skiff, 
a mere cockle-shell at the mercy of the storm, 
while Nan could only cling to the sides of the 
boat, and pray as she had never prayed in her 
life before. 

Ah, she was lost; she was lost; she was 
going to die, to drown here on these storm- 
swept waves. Uncle Jack would never see 
her again. 

0 dear Father in heaven ! have mercy 
upon me, spare me, save me ! Mother Mary, 
pray for me now — now at the hour of my 
death.” As the sweet familiar words rose 
into a despairing cry, a hoarse shout sounded 
through the storm. “ Help, help, oh, help ! ” 
shrieked Nan. 


73 


74 


New Friends. 


Aye, aye, lass ! came the answer. And 
a boat manned by two stalwart rowers shot 
alongside of Nan, a powerful hand seized her 
little skiff and whirled it to the left, and the 
next moment both boats had grounded on a 
low-lying point of willow-girded shore. 

Out wid ye. Con,” said a familiar voice. 

Ye’ve got two good legs under ye and can 
lift the little craythur. She must be nigh 
dead wid the fright and wet.” 

Oh, no, no ; I’m not dead. Mat. Dear 
Mat, I’m all — all right,” sobbed Nan, hys- 
terically. 

(xod be praised,” said Mat fervently. 

An’ it’s a bad chase ye guv me. Miss. Faix, 
whin I saw the boat gone, I knew you were 
in it, and the heart fairly lepped out of me. 
It’s a fine sailor ye are to be, stharting off in 
the face of a storm like that.” 

0 Mat, dear Mat ! it — it was so good of 
you to come,” sobbed Nan, as, leaning on her 
two faithful guides, she stumbled on through 
the bending, shivering trees. 


New Friends. 


75 


^MVasn’t it the Captain’s orthers that I 
was to pilot ye, Miss, and faix, if ye ever 
needed a pilot, it was this same day. Aisy, 
Miss, darlint, don’t cry. Shnre, isn’t all the 
throuble over, and ye safe ashore wid me and 
Con howlding on till ye? Aisy, now, here’s 
General Lambert’s house to the fore of us, 
and ye’ll be as welcome there as the flowers 
of May, for it’s him and the Captain are the 
great friends intirely.” 

And in a few moments Nan found herself 
on the broad porch of a hospitable old-fash- 
ioned house, whose doors flew open at once to 
the storm-cast guests, who were ushered into 
a big hall, that was bright with flrelight and 
pictures and merry, laughing boys and girls, 
who left their games and ipiusic and dolls and 
books to crowd around the little stranger 
with eager sympathy. Then there was a tall, 
soldierly papa, who gave hearty welcome to 
Uncle Jack’s little girl, and a sweet, low- 
voiced mamma, who took the still trembling 
Nan away to be dosed and dried, and dressed 


76 


ISfew Friends. 


in a pretty little plaid frock, in which she 
was quite comfortable. And then Mat and 
Con were sent off in the Generates light 
wagon to tell Uncle Jack when he came back 
from town that Nan was perfectly safe, and 
would stay with Mrs. Lambert all night. 

Then such a jolly supper as they had. 
How the jokes flew up and down the long 
table, and papa stumped Hugh on his Latin, 
and cornered Dick in history, and set all 
their wits to work on the queer question : 

What king sat up for three hundred years 
after his death ? ” 

Oh, what a pleasant evening! It was the 
most delightful Nan had ever spent, for it 
was her first glimpse of that heaven of child- 
hood — a happy home, blessed by a father’s 
tender care, a mother’s loving smile. Gen- 
eral Lambert was a very important man, in- 
deed. Though the old sword that hung over 
the mantel was draped in the conquered ban- 
ner, its owner’s voice was still heard in the 
councils of the nation, and his sweet, low- 


New Friends. 


77 


voiced wife held her place at will in the high- 
est social circles of the land. Generations of 
stately ancestors looked down from their tar- 
nished frames on the big wainscoted hall, 
where papa led the merry game of hide-and- 
seek with as much zest as if he were scouting 
again along the Kappahannock, and mamma, 
who had been a pupil of the great Abbe Liszt, 
dashed off such dance music, that even old 
Uncle Ned was beguiled into a rheumatic 
hoe-down in the kitchen hall. 

Finally, when every one was tired of fun 
and frolic. Uncle Ned heaped more logs on 
the fire, and brought in apples and nuts, and 
the boys flung themselves on the furry 
hearth-rug, and Ethel and Nellie snuggled 
up to Nan on the big cushioned divan, and 
Loulie, who was the frail little blossom of 
the household, nestled at mamma’s feet, and 
six-year-old Charlie bestrode papa’s knee, 
and there came a clamor for stories. 

A nice, fighting story,” commanded 
Charlie, who still ruled as Prince Baby, 


78 


^ew Friends. 


about guns and shooting, and bears and 
lions, and Indians.’^ 

“ No, no,’^ said papa, with a glance at the 
little stranger. No bears and Indians to- 
night. Somebody has had excitement 
enough to keep her awake now.” 

Let’s have a Thanksgiving story, then. 
Thursday will be Thanksgiving,” said Dick. 

Something about a rousing football match 
that you have seen, father.” 

must leave that to younger chaps,” 
said the General. Football wasn’t the fash- 
ionable game when I was young. It was 
musket-ball, * rifle-ball, cannon-ball, then. 
And the luck was pretty hard on the catchers, 
and the touchdowns did not often get up. 
But I will tell you a story that I don’t think 
you have ever heard. It’s about a Thanks- 
giving dinner a long time ago.” 

Hundreds and hundreds of years ! ” said 
Charlie, gleefully, scenting giants and fairies 
in this promising opening. 

^^AVell, not quite as long as that,” contin- 


'New Friends. 


79 


ued papa, but pretty long as young people 
count. There was a boy soldier, not much 
older than Hugh here, imprisoned in a 
Northern fortress, with rather a grim look- 
out on every side; for the wide, deep waters 
of a great harbor washed the frowning walls 
of his prison. In the great city beyond there 
were none to give him help with voice or 
hand ; far from friends and home, he was 
facing death — a stern, soldier’s death. It 
was in the darkest hour of the Civil War, 
when bitter feeling prevailed on both sides, 
when brother was armed against brother, and 
friend steeled against friend. Ah, my boys, 
remember, there is no quarrel like a family 
quarrel. If in the days that are to come you 
ever get into a tiff, don’t let the sun go down 
upon it, but shake hands and forget. To go 
back to my soldier boy, he was, as you see, in 
a pretty bad fix ; for his father, who held high 
rank in the Confederate army, had prisoners 
in his hands that by some stern reprisal of 
war were threatened with death, and the lad 


80 


l^ew Friends. 


(for he was little more) was held as hostage 
for their safety. He knew the lofty sense of 
honor that ruled his father, and that no 
thought of the boy he so dearly loved could 
move him from his duty as a soldier and a 
chief.^^ 

Tough on the poor old dad,” said Hugh, 
softly. ^^But it was square,” interposed 
Dick, tit for tat. It was square, wasn’t it, 
papa ? ” 

Well, it didn’t look just that way to the 
young prisoner on this particular Thanksgiv- 
ing Eve, when he stood at his barred window 
and looked across the waters to the great 
city, with its domes and towers flashing in the 
frosty sunlight. Life and hope were strong 
within him, and rose in fierce rebellion to his 
fate. If he could but have a chance — a 
leap from that barred window, a plunge into 
the deep waters, a race over those far-off 
hills ! He thought of his home, where the 
brown hills were still bright with autumn 
glory, the river was dimpling in the Southern 


New Friends. 


81 


breeze, the sky a vault of cloudless blue. He 
saw again in fancy the big house, with the 
red creeper twining around the porch pillars, 
and the flash of the log-fire on the hearth, 
where his mother was waiting for news of her 
only boy ; and, big boy as he was, his eyes got 
misty, and a lump rose in his throat as he 
thought that he would never see home or 
mother again — never see the hills or the 
river, or the old box-bordered garden, where 
he and his pretty cousin May had picked 
posies to pin on her white dress or nestle in 
her curly brown hair — sweet Cousin May, 
who had been like a sister to him until two 
years before, when her mother had taken her 
off to Europe to finish her education. And the 
young soldier wondered if Cousin May, who 
was quite a grand young lady now, and had 
earls and counts and all sorts of great people 
at her feet, would give a thought to his hard 
fate. Somehow the lump in his throat grew 
harder to swallow when he thought of being 
quite forgotten by Cousin May.’’ 


82 


New Friends. 


A little smile was trembling upon mamma’s 
lips, and her hand stole softly into the big 
soldier hand that rested upon the General’s 
chair as the story-teller went on. 

Just then, as the soldier boy was feeling 
his worst, there was a thump at his door, and 
in came one of his guard, with a letter, that 
had been opened and inspected as usual by 
the officer of the day. It was about the 
meanest, the coldest, the crudest letter the 
boy had ever read, and it was from his 
Cousin May.” 

0 the hateful thing ! ” chorused the girls, 
indignantly. 

“ She told him she had just returned from 
Europe, and was visiting her father’s old 
friend. General Gray,” continued papa; 

that she had learned with great regret that 
her cousin had been taken in arms against his 
country and flag ; that, though she could feel 
no sympathy with a traitor, and all friend- 
ship between them was forever over, she 
would like in some way to return the kind- 


New Friends. 


8S 


nesses received from his mother in the past; 
therefore. General Gray had kindly obtained 
permission for her to send him some little 
delicacies for a Thanksgiving dinner. She 
begged he would not reply to this note in any 
way, as further communication with him un- 
der present circumstances was neither allow- 
able nor desirable. Accompanying this note, 
which fell like an ice-bolt on the poor boy^s 
heart, was a fine roast turkey, with its usual 
appendages of celery and cranberry sauce, 
and a small keg of prime oysters.^^ 

^^I’d have pitched the whole mess over- 
board,” fiashed out Dick, indignantly. '' To 
kick a fellow when he is down with a letter 
like that!” 

My boy, you have never been on army 
rations for a twelvemonth,” said his father, 
grimly. It had been so long since that fel- 
low had seen a turkey or an oyster, that, in- 
stead of pitching them out, he set to work 
vigorously to pitch them in. And it was 
about the best Thanksgiving dinner he ever 


84 


New Friends. 


had before or has ever had since, for that 
roast turkey was a traitorous bird, stuffed 
with watch-spring saws and greenbacks by 
Cousin May’s rebel fingers, and, hidden safe 
under those prime oysters, was a life-preserv- 
ing suit of rubber, ready to be blown into 
shape. And two nights after that Thanksgiv- 
ing dinner, the bars of that soldier boy’s cell 
were sawed through, and he leaped into the 
water and he swam to the friends Cousin 
May had waiting for him.” 

^^Then what — what did she write that 
hateful letter for ? ” asked Nellie, in amaze- 
ment. 

To fool the officer on guard, so that he 
would not suspect or inspect her gifts,” said 
papa, laughing. 

^^And didn’t she ever pick posies in the 
soldier boy’s garden any more ? ” asked Char- 
lie. 

Ask her,” said the General, as he whirled 
the young rider around to face his smiling 
mother. 


New Friends. 


85 


0 mamma, mamma ! ” shouted an up- 
roarious chorus. Mamma was Cousin May. 
The story is about mamma and papa ! ” 

Of course it is,” said Hugh. I guessed 
it from the first; but why have we never 
heard it before ? ” 

Because good old General Gray was your 
godfather, and your mother never let him 
know how she tricked him into helping me 
off. It would have been a bitter pill to the 
old man even to his dying day. Ah, she was 
a wicked little witch at seventeen — this same 
mamma of yours. Neither old salt nor old 
soldier could resist her.” 

^^And she is a witch still — the sweetest 
witch in all the world,” said gallant Hugh, 
lifting his mother’s hand to his lips. She 
holds us all in a spell that nothing can ever 
break. You need never be afraid of tiffs here, 
father, while we remember you and our 
mother.” 

Good, my boy, good ! ” And the Gen- 
eral’s voice softened into unusual tenderness 


86 


Uew Friends. 


as he slapped his favorite son’s broad shoul- 
der. ^ In Union is Strength.’ That’s the 
motto of these glorious latter days. Strength 
of heart — strength of homes — strength of 
States ! So, the Union forever, Charlie 
boy!” 

And three cheers for the Red, White, and 
Blue I ” chirped Charlie, as his father swung 
him from his knee. Sing, mamma, sing 
^ Red, White, and Blue ’ before we go to bed.” 

And as the stirring strain of the old song 
was upborne by the children’s clear voices, 
the soldier boy ” of long ago listened with a 
strange thrill in his heart, that was half glad- 
ness and half sorrow, half triumph and half 
pain. 


CHAPTER VII. 

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 

Uncle Jack drove over to Lambert Hall 
very early next morning to find his truant 
and bring her home. 

You must let us see more of your little 
girl,” said Mrs. Lambert, who had heard 
something of Nan^s story, and felt a mother’s 
pity for the little stranger, whose life until 
now had been so hard and sad. 

I shall be only too glad to do so,” said 
the Captain, gratefully. My motherless 
Nan could ask no better friends, madam, 
than you and yours.” 

And thus began a pleasant intimacy be- 
tween Lambert Hall and Oakhurst, even 
though they stood six miles apart. With 
boats, bicycles, and ponies at their disposal, 
87 


88 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


the young folks managed to cover the dis- 
tance very much oftener than Miss Darrell, 
the young Lamberts’ governess, approved. 

Miss Darrell, who had been absent on a 
Thanksgiving- week holiday when Nan made 
her first appearance at the Hall, was a 
highly cultivated lady, in gold-rimmed spec- 
tacles, who had the strong opinions that in 
simple-minded folks are called bitter preju- 
dices. She found Nan’s grammar and re- 
ligion equally shocking. 

^^My dear Mrs. Lambert,” she said, drop- 
ping into that lady’s sitting-room, one even- 
ing, after a visit with Ethel to Oakhurst, 
^^are you aware that this new-made friend 
of Ethel’s is a Romanist ? ” 

^^Is she?” exclaimed Mrs. Lambert. 
“ And does Captain Leighton allow it ? ” 
^^Most certainly,” answered Miss Darrell, 
impressively. ^^He not only allows it, but 
sends her to church or chapel, or Mass, or 
whatever they call it, with a rough one-legged 
Irish sailor.” And Miss Darrell drew a long 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


89 


breath, as if the shocking recountal had quite 
exhausted her. 

Poor little Nan a Catholic repeated 
Mrs. Lambert, softly. That accounts for 
the innocence in her eyes. I felt that her 
little soul had been shielded somehow.” 

Miss Darrell stared. There were times 
when she found the sweet-voiced lady of the 
house quite incomprehensible even to her 
cleverness. 

thought it right you should know at 
once,” she continued. ^^The poor child’s 
grammar is bad enough, and I fear Ethel will 
become careless about her verbs and partici- 
ples if she is much with her.” 

Oh, no,” said Mrs. Lambert, laughing. 
‘‘ Her participles can’t be worse than my old 
mammy’s, and they never hurt me. And 
don’t tell the children. Miss Darrell, but I 
never parsed a sentence in my life. I always 
found grammar odious. And yet,” added the 
lady, with a little shrug of her pretty shoul- 
ders, people say I talk quite creditably.” 


90 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


To which Miss Darrell could only agree, 
for she knew this soft-voiced little lady was 
considered one of the brightest and most 
charming hostesses of the land. 

^^But, the religion! Ethel tells me that 
Nan invited her to come to church with her 
next Sunday. There is to be a Forty Hours’ 
or something. I did not exactly catch what,” 
continued Miss Darrell, eagerly. felt 

sure you would object.” 

^^Not at all,” was the startling reply. 
^^Let Ethel go if she pleases. The dearest 
friend I ever had is a nun in a French con- 
vent now. And I could ask nothing better 
than to have my daughter such a woman as 
Aglae Fontaine. I would have been a Catho- 
lic myself if I had spent another year at 
Aglae’s side. Luckily, or unluckily perhaps, 
mamma whisked me home. But I have al- 
ways been glad that I knelt with Aglae to 
get that dear old Pope Pio Nino’s blessing. 
I have fancied that it has rested on my heart 
and home ever since.” 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


91 


So Ethel went to church with the little 
Eomanist,” and her one-legged pilot, and 
came home with her soft eyes shining like 
stars, to tell mamma of the beautiful altar, 
the lights, the music, and the little white- 
robed children scattering flowers in the pro- 
cession of the Forty Hours, all of which was 
to her so wonderful and new. 

0 mamma ! it was just like heaven. It 
made me feel so good and happy. I never 
felt so good in all my life before. And Han 
said it was because Our Lord was really there, 
really and truly as when He let the little chil- 
dren come to him on earth. Sister Seraphine 
told her all about it. 0 mamma ! I never 
heard anything like that. Did you?’’ 

And mamma’s sweet face grew very 
thoughtful as she answered: 

Yes, dear, I did, a long time ago. But 
there are some things too great and solemn 
for a little girl to understand. Don’t trouble 
your dear little head about them, but run 
and play.” 


92 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


And thus mamma silenced the uneasy 
whisper that rose in her heart when she 
thought of Aglae and the long ago, and sent 
her questioning little girl back to Miss Dar- 
rell — Miss Darrell, who had dived into so 
many ologies and isms that she was really 
worse than a good, old-fashioned pagan, and 
who was not quite sure whether she had been 
transmigrated from a cat or evoluted from a 
tadpole; Miss Darrell, who was ready to be- 
lieve anything and everything but the sweet 
old faith Our Lord came to teach. 

^ 4c 

Meantime Nan was improving her long 
holiday by learning many things by methods 
unknown to Miss Darrell. 

First, there was the Sunday-school, which 
Mat always contrived that his young lady 
should reach, and the sweet-faced teacher. 
Miss Alice, who took especial interest in the 
bright little scholar from Oakhurst; then 
there was Mat himself, who was a very ency- 
clopedia of knowledge about birds and beasts, 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


93 


and snakes and flowers and trees; Mat, who 
loved nothing better than to hold forth to his 
eager young listener about the queer lands 
to which he had journeyed, and the queer 
people he had seen ; Mat, who had made hair- 
breadth escapes from the jaws of sharks and 
alligators, and had just missed serving as a 
substantial roast at a cannibal feast. Wer- 
tha, too, had wonderful stories for her young 
mistress, of that far-ofl Northland from 
which she came, of the long, strange day, its 
midnight sun. And Mother Bunch — good 
old Mother Bunch’s budget of tales was 
quite inexhaustible, for she had lived in great 
houses abroad, and could tell of their state 
and splendor; she had helped to dress Lady 
Maude for her presentation at court; she 
had nursed the little Earl of Copton Court 
through the whooping-cough and measles; 
she had shrouded the great Lady Blank, for 
whose death a nation had mourned ; she had 
all sorts of traditions about what young 
ladies should and should not do, from the 


94 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


brushing of their hair to the tying of their 
slippers. Ah, to a little, unkempt, mother- 
less waif Mother Bunch’s teachings were 
quite invaluable. Last, but not least, there 
was Uncle Jack, who knew, as Nan fondly 
believed, everything, all secrets of the skies, 
the stars, the winds ; who could point out all 
the countries of the world on the great globe 
in his library, and who had invented for his 
little girl’s benefit a most fascinating game, 
by which Nan was soon able to steer an imag- 
inary ship to every port on the earth, and 
take up the fitting cargo. 

Eeally, Oakhurst was not such a bad 
school, after all, for a poor little girl whose 
life had been narrowed down to the drudg- 
ery of a hillside cabin, and who had learned 
so little of the bright, beautiful world in 
which she lived that she had never known 
whether it was round or flat. So the bright 
days sped on, until Jack Frost came down 
from the heights in earnest, and the wind 
blustered down the wide chimneys of Oak- 


An Unexpected Meeting. 95 

hurst, and lawns and gardens were white 
with snow. 

Nan, Nan ! cried Ethel, bursting into 
the hall, one December afternoon, ^^put on 
your things, quick. We’ve got the big sleigh 
at the door, and we are all going in town to 
the Orphans’ Fair. The boys say it’s almost 
as good as the circus, so mamma has sent us 
with Miss Darrell, and we’ve stopped to get 
you.” 

0 Uncle Jack ! may I go ? ” asked Nan, 
who was in the library, over the big globe, 
making a Polar expedition with her imagin- 
ary ship, and getting locked up in the ice- 
floes. 

Certainly,” was the hearty reply. And 
here is a little pocket-piece to take with 
you,” added Uncle Jack, slipping a five-dol- 
lar gold piece in her hand. Spend it all. 
It’s for the orphans, you know.” 

Even Miss Darrell’s gold-rimmed glasses 
could not detract from the hilarity of the oc- 
casion, as the young people passed into the 


96 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


crowded hall, gay with flags, banners, Turk- 
ish booths, Chinese pagodas, Kebecca’s well, 
and every device to tempt pennies and dimes 
out of juvenile pockets. Admission was only 
ten cents, so there was a motley crowd. Miss 
Darrell kept the younger members of her 
flock by her side, but Ethel and Nan were 
allowed to wander at will, making their pur- 
chases. They had stopped to inspect a tobac- 
co-bag, which they thought just the thing 
for IJncle Jack, when Nan heard her name 
called in a shrill, familiar tone, and turned 
to face Milly! — Milly, quite gorgeous in a 
suit of purple and green plaid, with her hay- 
colored frizzes surmounted by a red felt hat 
nodding with yellow roses — the Milly Farley 
of old. 

0 you dear, sweet child ! ’’ And Nan was 
caught in the embrace of two purple and 
green arms, and kissed rapturously. 

For a moment she was struck quite dumb 
with surprise, for in all the five years of their 
acquaintance Milly, sharp-tongued, nagging 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


97 


Milly, had scarcely ever given poor little 
drudging Nan a civil word, and this effusive 
greeting was in every way startling. Then 
the sight of the familiar face stirred up all 
the tender memories of Nan’s faithful little 
heart, and she found voice to answer : 

^^0 Milly ! I am so glad to see you. Ethel, 
this is my old friend, Milly Farley.” 

Friend ! ” echoed Milly. Friend ain’t 
no name for what we was to each other. We 
was like sisters, wasn’t we. Nan? But I sup- 
pose you’ve forgot all that, now that times is 
so changed with you. You’ve forgotten how 
mother took you from — well, we won’t say 
where, and did for you like you was her own 
child.” 

Oh, no, no,” answered Nan, quite regard- 
less of the malice and envy in the speaker’s 
words. I haven’t forgotten anything, Milly. 
I’ve been thinking of you all, and dreaming 
of you, and longing to hear from you so 
much, oh, so much. Tell me everything. 
Tell me what you are doing here, and who 


98 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


is taking care of the children and the house ? 
How could you leave them, Milly ? ” 

^^Easy enough/^ said Milly. We’ve bro- 
ken up housekeeping.” 

Broken up housekeeping ! ” echoed Han, 
aghast. 

^^Yes,” answered Milly, loftily, proceed- 
ing, as she thought, to impress Han’s stuck- 
up” friend. Father thought it best. Real- 
ly, the care was so great for me, and we found 
is so difficult to get good servants, so we sold 
the old home. You know what a dear, sweet 
place it was, Han? And father and the lit- 
tle boys are boarding, now.” 

Where?” asked Han, breathlessly. 

'^In Frostburg. Father is in business 
there, now ; and I — I am visiting friends here 
in town,” added Milly, feeling it unneces- 
sary to add that her friends were tailors who 
employed her to finish coats. 

^^And Tim?” queried Han, who had a 
soft place in her heart even for the big black 
sheep of the family. 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


99 - 


Oh, Tim is at work, too,’^ answered Milly. 

He left home months ago/^ 

And Patsy, my poor little Patsy. 
0 Milly!^^ Han’s voice trembled, ^Mo you 
think he is happy ? Does he miss me much ? ” 
Miss you ! 0 dear, no,” answered 

Milly, with a short, hard laugh. He don’t 
miss anybody. He has such good times, now 
in a great big house, with other children to- 
play with, and everybody petting and humor- 
ing him. The child is fairly spoiled to 
death.” 

‘‘And — and does he look well, Milly?” 
asked Han, joyfully, feeling that this beatific 
state of things was all due to Uncle Jack’s 
three hundred dollars. 

Oh, just splendid,” continued Milly^ 
bravely upholding the family credit before 
Han’s new friends. So fat and so rosy, I 
declare, when I saw him in his dear little 
winter suit, all trimmed with fur, he looked 
like a picture.” 

Oh, I am so glad, so glad,” Han almost 


LofC. 


100 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


tsobbed, in delight. I was so afraid he was 
lonesome and unhappy. I’ve had such dreams 
about him. 0 Milly! you can’t think what 
dreadful dreams — ” 

Ethel ! ” called a stern, icy voice, and 
Miss Darrell glared in horror upon the group. 

I am surprised at you, to say the least. 
'Oome, we are going home at once.” 

^^0 Miss Darrell! so soon,” said Nan. 

^^At once,” repeated the lady, shutting 
her lips tightly and looking arctic blizzards 
;at Milly’s red hat and nodding roses. 

Then I must go,” said Nan. So, good- 
by, dear, dear Milly, good-by. Oh, I’m so 
glad I met you ! Give my love to them all, 
Tim and Dave, and my own darling little 
Patsy, and tell them ” — Nan’s voice began to 
tremble — '^tell them I’ll never forget them, 
or stop loving them, never, never — oh, oh, 
oh, never ! ” 

And quite unconscious of the wondering 
and staring and tittering around her, Uncle 
Jack’s pretty, stylish little girl clung to 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


101 


shock-haired Milly, sobbing out her tender, 
faithful heart on the purple-plaid breast. 

4c :ic 

Such a scene, my dear Mrs. Lambert,” 
said Miss Darrell, as, quite pale with rage, 
she recounted her adventures. Everybody 
staring and wondering and asking me who 
that dreadful-looking girl was, and why I was 
separating them. Never will I take that lit- 
tle vulgarian anywhere again — never, never, 
never.” 

And Miss Darrell kept her w’ord. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A TOBOGGAN SLIDE. 

Uncle Jack^s face darkened when he 
heard of the scene at the Fair, but he had 
not the heart to reproach the little girl, who 
was so full of unselfish delight at the good 
news she had heard of her old friends. 

You did it, dear Uncle Jack, you did it. 
Patsy is happy and warm and comfortable, 
and theyVe got everything they want, and 
the money you gave them did it all. Oh, I’ve 
been so troubled and worried. Uncle Jack; 
but now I can be happy, real happy.” 

And the roses deepened on Uan’s cheeks, 
and the light grew brighter in her eyes, and 
her voice grew merrier every day. 

^^Mrs. Bunch has fairly won her watch,” 
said Uncle Jack, pinching his little girl’s 
cheek, as she danced into his study, one De- 
102 


A Toboggan Slide. 


103 


cember morning. ^‘1 don’t think there’s a 
prettier pair of winter roses in the country. 
What do you say to a sleigh-ride with me, 
this fine, snappy morning? I’ve got some 
business at ’Squire Long’s, and will take you 
if you want to go.” 

Oh, yes, yes,” answered Nan, gleefully. 
And soon she was nestling happily in the 
great bearskins at Uncle Jack’s side, and 
skimming over the white hills, through the 
pine forests hung with snow blossoms, over 
the bridge, beneath which the frozen river 
slumbered, on and on, through the still, 
beautiful fairyland that old wizard Winter 
rules with his crystal wand. 

Oh, isn’t it lovely? ” said Nan, half un- 
der her breath. I never thought snow was 
nice before.” 

Didn’t you? ” laughed Uncle Jack. I 
thought all young folks liked snow. It means 
snowballing and coasting, and all kinds of 
fun.” 

^^It didn’t mean fun to me,” answered 


104 


A Toboggan Slide. 


Nan, the old, wistful look stealing into her 
bright eyes. It choked up the doors and 
leaked down the chimneys, filled up the well, 
and covered up the wood-pile, and every- 
thing got scarce, and Patsy’s back ached — ” 
Oh, come, come,” said Uncle J ack, 
gruffly, we’ve bargained not to talk or 
think of those bad days now. Snow means 
fun now, capital fun, as you will see when 
Will Long takes you down his toboggan-slide 
to-day.” 

And Uncle Jack began to tell stories of 
sledding and coasting in various climes, un- 
til Nan’s eyes sparkled with interest again, 
and she looked around at the spotless, shin- 
ing slopes with the gladness at their beauty 
that was among the sweetest lessons of her 
new life. 

Suddenly out of the purity and peace of 
the scene arose an ugly picture, a grim, gray 
house, whose barred windows and spiked 
walls seemed to frown down upon the white 
loveliness all around it. 


A ToT)oggan Slide. 


105 - 


^^0 Uncle Jack!^^ asked Nan, ^^what is 
that horrid place ? 

That is the county prison, my little girl 
an ugly place, indeed, but really much bet- 
ter than it looks.” 

prison! 0 Uncle Jack! are many 
people locked up in it ? ” 

Quite a number, I believe,” answered 
Uncle Jack, carelessly. ^^But they are not 
always locked up. They are made to work — 
cut wood, dig ditches, make roads. There 
is a party of them now.” And he pointed to 
a gang of men in striped clothes who were 
shoveling away the great snow drifts that 
choked the neighboring road. 

0 poor, poor men ! ” said Nan, pitifully. 

I am so sorry for them. Aren’t you. Uncle 
Jack?” 

^^Not a bit. Nan. They deserve all they 
get, I am sure, and a great deal more, for 
they are proved thieves and rascals, every one 
of them. Here is ’Squire Long’s! And 
whew! — ^just as I expected — what a tobog- 


106 


A Toboggan Slide. 


gan-slide! Will Long didn’t go to school 
at Montreal without learning something.” 
And jolly Uncle Jack who, like all good 
men, was still a boy at heart, reined up at 
the foot of the hill on which stood his friend’s 
handsome house, to survey the hard-packed, 
glittering track that swept unbroken down 
the dazzling slope, and was gay with merry 
■coasters. 

Kow, there’s snow-fun for you,” he con- 
tinued, as Will Long’s big Canadian tobog- 
gan came skimming down, laden with pretty 
furred and hooded girls, followed by a great 
Eussian sled, with brass hand-bars and 
jingling bells, while behind these heavy 
leaders whizzed a flock of single runners, 
and the white stillness of the snow echoed 
with glad shouts and calls and peals of sil- 
very laughter, until the slide ended at the 
level road, where the stripe-clad prisoners 
were shoveling in sullen silence at the spot- 
less drifts. 

0 Uncle Jack ! ” breathlessly cried Nan, 


A Toboggan Slide. 


107 


who had risen up in her own sleigh with 
glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, isn’t it 
splendid fun? If I could just go down that 
slide once ! ” 

And you shall,” said Uncle Jack, heart- 
ily. Hallo, Will ! ” he called to the sturdy 
young fellow now dragging his toboggan up 
the hill. ^^My little Han wants to try a 
slide with you. Can you take her down?” 

Why, certainly, a dozen times ! ” said 
Will, cordially. Jump out. Miss, and you, 
too. Captain. Fine track, this morning, and 
we are having capital sport.” 

^^So I see,” answered the Captain, ^^but 
I am almost too old a boy for tobogganing. 
Will. Besides, I have business with your 
father, so I will leave my little girl with you 
for a while; and remember, whenever you 
want a horse or a boat, Oakhurst has both 
at your service.” 

Thank you. Captain. You are the best 
of neighbors, as we boys all know,” answered 
the lad. 


108 


A Toboggan Slide. 


And Uncle Jack drove off, leaving Nan to 
tug up the hill with Will and the gay crowd 
of sisters, cousins, aunts, and neighbors who 
formed his party. 

Captain Leighton, the hearty, kindly, 
wealthy master of Oakhurst, was known to 
them all most favorably, and the pretty little 
girl in her sealskin cap and coat, was the sub- 
ject of many pleasant whispered comments. 
Isn’t she a little beauty ? ” 

What glorious hair ! ” 

Looks like a little Eussian princess ! ” 
No wonder, in a cap and coat like that,” 
said a bright-eyed cousin just out.” 

They must have cost as much as my whole 
year’s allowance. But Mrs. Lambert says 
her uncle fairly idolizes her. She is the 
child of his only sister, w^ho died abroad, I 
believe, and this little girl was sent home to 
him about three months ago.” 

Thus gossip, with its mingling of truth 
and falsehood, ran on, while Nan, packed 
safely between Will and Fanny Long, went 


A To'boggan Slide. 


109 


whizzing down the slide on the big toboggan, 
in a white, dazzling flight that fairly took 
away her breath. 

Oh, what a glad, mad rush it was, this 
strong-winged sweep through the tingling, 
sunlit air! 

One wild, delicious moment and a sharp- 
ringing shout, a shock, a swirl of blinding 
snow, and Nan found herself half -stifled in 
a huge drift, with everybody more or less 
scattered around her. 

Oh ! ” she gasped, as with WilFs help she 
floundered up from the fleecy, snowy depths, 

I — I didn’t know you came down like — like 
this.” 

We don’t,” he laughed. "We ran down 
one of the jail-birds. Confound it, what did 
you get straight in my track for ? ” he add- 
ed, irritably, to one of the striped figures 
who was struggling painfully up from an 
evident knock-down in the road. 

But the man, who was holding both hands 
to his head, did not answer. 


110 


A Toboggan Slide. 


^^'He has been acting like a fool all day/’ 
said the foreman of the gang, slipping for- 
ward. ^^He was sent down only last week, 
and he seems dazed like. He is a young 
chap, and it’s his first time. Get up here, 
24! You are not hurt.” 

Oh, yes, he is, he is,” said warm-hearted, 
fearless little Nan. ^^His head is all cut 
and bleeding, and — She stopped suddenly, 
and her rosy cheek grew white as the snow 
around, for the prisoner’s hands had 
dropped from his face at the sound of her 
voice. 

Nan ! ” he said, hoarsely. Is it Nan? ” 

Tim ! ” she gasped, while the white hills 
seemed to spin in a dizzy dance around her, 
for it was, indeed, the big black sheep of the 
Farley family. Oh, it’s Tim ! ” 

And to the consternation of all beholders, 
the little heiress of Oakhurst went down on 
her knees in the snow, and began to staunch 
the blood from the jail-bird’s cut temple 
with her dainty handkerchief. 


A Toboggan Slide. 


Ill 


Oh, he is hurt, dreadfully hurt ! she 
cried, in heart-broken tones. 

"Please, somebody, get a doctor to help 
him, please, please ! I’ll pay for it. I’ve got 
plenty of money in my pocket. Please, please.” 

" Lor’, missy, he don’t vrant no doc- 
tor,” said the foreman. " Get up, you fool. 
You’ve only got a little scratch. Don’t be 
frightening the little lady.” 

"I ain’t no little lady,” cried Nan, des- 
perately in her efforts to prove her right to 
help. " I’m only little Nan Knowlton, and 
Tim was like my brother, my real brother. 
Weren’t you, Tim? He was good to me, 
and sawed wood and drew water for me, and 
bought me a pair of shoes with his own 
money when I had frosted feet. Oh, please, 
somebody, call Uncle Jack. He will do 
something for Tim, I know.” 

Nan had a startled audience by this time. 
Coasters and convicts alike had gathered 
around. Will Long stood quite speechless, 
his pretty sisters and cousins stared aghast. 


112 


A Toboggan Slide. 


while this little Kussian princess ’’ claimed 
friendship, if not kinship, with a rongh jail- 
bird in his striped coat of shame. And just 
then, as if to cap the climax. Uncle Jack^s 
sleigh swept down the curve of the neighbor- 
ing road. 

Well, little woman, all ready ? ” rang out 
the cheery greeting. Why — hallo ! what 

in thunder is the matter here?” 

One of our gang got hurt with a sled,” 
explained the foreman, as Captain Leighton 
stared in dumb amazement at the scene, 
^^and the little lady there seems to know 
him. She is taking on dreadful about it.” 

^^Nan!” called Uncle Jack sharply, in a 
tone she had never heard from him before, 
Nan !” 

0 Uncle Jack, Uncle Jack ! ” Nan fal- 
tered, it’s Tim, Uncle Jack, our Tim.” 

Then did Tim himself put an end to the 
scene by struggling to his feet. 

Don’t — don’t bother about me. Nan,” he 
said, huskily. ^‘1 ain’t wuth it. I ain’t 


A To'boggan Slide. 


113 


wuth nuthing. Here, take me off, boss, some- 
where — fur — fur — I can’t — can’t stand this 
— no more. Take me off.” 

And the big black sheep, who was not all 
black at heart, was led staggering away, while 
Uncle Jack, after explaining as briefly as 
possible that his little girl had known the 
luckless Tim in his better days, lifted the 
still weeping Han back into the sleigh and 
drove home in a fierce, gloomy silence that 
told her more plainly than words that he was 
sorely displeased. 

He left her at Oakhurst, her little heart 
and head both aching pitifully, and drove 
away again alone. 

Hot until the next day did he call her to 
him again in the old tender tone. 

Han,” he said, from his study, come 
here. I want to talk with you.” 

As she entered shyly, he put his arm about 
her and drew her close to his chair. 

I was angry with you, yesterday — hot, 
fierce, old Leighton angry, Han. Don’t 


114 


A Toboggan Slide. 


make me angry like that again, little girl — 
never again/’ 

" 0 Uncle Jack ! no, no — ^not if I can help 
it— no/’ 

Because when I am angry I am a wild, 
hot-headed old fool, Nan, and can’t answer 
for what I say or what I do. But I’ve got 
my wits back again, to-day. I’ve settled 
about that young rascal Farley. He was 
only locked up because he fell in with a 
gang of old thieves and cutthroats, who 
fooled the stupid lad into helping them off 
with their stolen goods. I think we can 
manage to get him out in a week, and then 
ship him off somewhere to start square 
again.” 

^^0 Uncle Jack! dear Uncle Jack!” said 
Nan, flinging her arms tight about his 
neck. You’re so good — so good ! ” 

But Uncle Jack’s voice grew suddenly 
stern ^nd hard : Eemember, Nan, this ends 
the Farley business. They are nothing to 
you. Worse than nothing, for they made you 


A Toboggan Slide. 


115 


their little slave and drudge. I don’t want 
you ever to see, to hear from, to think of 
them again. If you do — ^well, I am afraid we 
will quarrel, little girl, and Uncle Jack’s 
quarrels don’t always end — in a kiss — like 
this.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE STORM BURSTS. 

Pleasant days followed this little out- 
break, and though dimly Nan realized that, 
like the fair Ellen in the poem, her hand 
was in the lion’s mane,” Uncle Jack was his 
own loving self again. For Christmas was 
close at hand, and he determined it should 
be a happy one for the little girl who had 
never known a Merry Christmas” before. 

A great tree was to rise in the hall, all the 
little neighbors were to be invited, and many 
were the consultations held over the library 
fire about fitting presents for young and 
old: whether Ethel should have a portfolio 
or paint-box; Charlie, a rocking-horse or a 
tool-chest; Nellie, a mandolin or a ring. 

What Nan was to have herself, she scarce- 
ly dared think; but she had caught hints 
116 


The Storm Bursts. 


117 


from Mat, who could not keep a secret, of a 
little fairy-carriage and a pair of milk-white 
ponies that were on their way from Santa 
Claus Land for somebody he knew. 

It seemed almost like a dream — a wonder- 
ful, beautiful dream, and Nan felt sometimes 
as if she must pinch herself right hard and 
wake — wake to find herself under the ragged 
patchwork quilt of the old hillside cabin, 
with the snow leaking in from the roof, and 
Patsy crying with bad pains in his poor little 
legs. But it’s all true, true, true ! ” Nan’s 
grateful little heart sang delightfully. And 
Patsy is warm and comfortable and happy. 
Milly said so. Oh, I’m sure I could not en- 
joy all these beautiful times if Milly had 
not told me my little Patsy was well and 
happy, too. Oh, it’s so nice to think of his 
having a new warm coat and plenty to eat, 
and getting rosy and fat and strong.” And 
just then Nan, who was skipping gaily over 
the white frozen road, after accompanying 
Ethel to the Oakhurst gate, came to a sud- 


118 


The Storm Bursts. 


den pause by the high, snow-wreathed hedge, 
for Uncle Jack^s voice was sounding in aw- 
ful thunder from the path near by. 

Clear out of these grounds ! Clear out, 
I say, you miserable, drunken scoundrel. 
You shall not see the child — I swear you 
shall not. Didn't I pay you to keep out of 
my sight and out of hers ? " 

You did. Captain Leighton, you did." 

Nan's breath nearly left her, for it was 
Dad's voice that answered, in the husky, 
quavering tones that usually followed an 
evening at Finnegan's. 

But I've been the poor, unfortunate man 
iver since me wife, God rest her, was tuk 
frum me; and I take a dhrop too much now 
and thin, I don't deny; and I got in with 
villyuns that robbed me and chated me of 
all that I had, your honor; and me little 
place was tuk for back rint; and atwixt 
the cowld and the sickness and all, I haven't 
a dollar left. But it isn't that brings me 
here to-day. It's to have a word with Nan. 


The iStoryn Bursts. 


119 


Sliure, I know her tindher heart is warm to 
us yit, sur, for wasn’t she like me own child 
fur five years and more ? ” 

Are you going to get off this place ? ” 
roared Uncle Jack, made doubly savage by 
this reminiscence. I warn you, if you try 
to come to my house. I’ll loosen my dogs on 
you.” 

0 Uncle Jack ! dear Uncle Jack ! no, no,” 
said Nan, springing forward. Don’t — 
don’t hurt him, please.” 

Nan ! ” said her uncle, sternly, Nan ! ” 
Nan, darlint. Nan ! ” said Dad, and Nan 
heard the real grief quivering in his husky 
tone. It’s fur you I’ve come. Poor little 
Patsy is dying and calling for you.” 

Dying !” echoed Nan, her rosy cheek 
paling. Dying ! Oh, no, no ! Milly said 
he was well and strong.” 

^^Then she lied,” answered Dad, bitterly, 
‘Mied like the proud, hard-hearted girl she 
is. She turned her back on us in our trouble, 
and wouldn’t do a hand’s turn for the little 


120 


The Storm Bursts. 


craythur; and ifs dying he now is, wid 
cowld and hunger and heart-break, for he 
hasn’t held np his head since yon left him, 
three months ago. ^Nan! Nan!’ it’s his 
cry night and day. ^ Oh, I want my own 
Nan! Won’t she come to me. Dad? Won’t 
she look at me wanst afore I die ? ’ It’s fnr 
that I come. Captain Leighton,” and Dad’s 
voice was steadied into momentary dignity, 
^^and not either for your dollars or dimes. 
It’s to ax Nan to come with me and see my 
little Patsy afore — afore he goes.” 

0 Uncle Jack ! yes, yes, I must, I must,” 
said Nan, forgetful of all things in the grief 
and pain that wrung her heart. 0 my lit- 
tle Patsy ! my little Patsy, dying, dying ! Oh ! 
I ought never to have left him. I promised 
his mother to take care of him, and I came 
away and left him to die, to die ! 0 Uncle 

J ack ! why did you take me away ? Why did 
you ever take me away ? ” 

Perhaps, if Uncle Jack had been a real 
father,” he would have understood this 


The Storm Bursts. 


121 


piteous little heart-cry. But he was an old * 
bachelor, who had snapped the one tender 
tie of his life in a fit of anger, and since had 
been roughing it among men — a hot-headed, 
generous, strong-willed old bachelor, whose 
big heart, filled with proud, remorseful ten- 
derness for his sister^s little neglected girl, 
was stung almost to madness by the reproach 
in Nan’s words. 

“Why did I take you?” he thundered. 

“ Because I was a fool — a blind, addle-pated, 
doting fool. Go back, you ungrateful little 
viper — go back, if you will, to the hole where 
I found you. I am done with you, as I was 
done with your mother before you. Go, I 
say ! ” 

“ Uncle Jack ! 0 dear, dear Uncle J ack ! ” 
wailed Nan. 

“Don’t call me Uncle,” he answered, 
hoarsely. “ Go with that drunken fool, if 
you please ; but remember, if you do, you stay 
there — you stay. I am nothing to you — 
worse than nothing. Take that,” and he 


122 


The Btorm Bursts. 


flung a pocketbook at Dad’s feet, ^^and be- 
gone — begone both of you ! Never let me see 
you — never let me hear of you again ! ” 
And fairly blind with rage, Uncle Jack 
strode on into the house, leaving the little 
girl he had loved so dearly standing, white 
and stunned, at Dad’s side. Poor, bewildered 
little Nan ! Her head was turning, her heart 
bursting, the whole beautiful world into 
which Uncle Jack had lifted her seemed 
crumbling into ruins, in the fierce storm of 
his wrath ; but through all the throbbing and 
whirling of heart and brain came the piteous 
echo of a little voice — Patsy’s dying voice : 

Nan, Nan ! come to me — come to me !” 

Och, murther, murther ! ” said Dad, fair- 
ly sobered by the outburst he had awakened. 

Does he mane to turn ye out of this. Nan ?” 

— I don’t know,” answered Nan, with 
a long-drawn breath. Oh, I don’t know 
anything, except that Patsy, my poor little 
Patsy, is dying and wants me. Oh, take me 
to him. Dad, take me to him right now ! ” 


The Storm Bursts. 


123 


Shure, I will, God bless ye, I will, Nan V' 
replied Dad, lapsing into maudlin tears. Bad 
luck to yer ould divil of an uncle. Til take 
you to the poor little craythur, that can’t die 
aisy till he sees ye. Come on, darlint, come 
on.” 

And like one stunned by a blow. Nan 
walked in under the white ghosts of trees 
to the gate, where stood the old spavined 
horse and rude box-sleigh that had brought 
Dad to Oakhurst. 

It was a neighbor lent it to me, fur it’s 
a good tin miles we’ve got to go,” explained 
Dad, as he lifted Nan onto a heap of old 
sacking that formed the cushioned seat, and 
as they drove away the speaker continued to 
dwell on about the ^^hard luck” that had 
followed him since Nan’s departure; of the 
scoundrel, one Nick Downey, who had per- 
suaded him to invest his three hundred dol- 
lars in a patent that was to bring in a for- 
tune, and had decamped with all the money 
the following week; the trouble with Tim, 


124 


The Storm Bursts. 


and the black cold-heartedness of Milly, who 
had left him to drift around with the two 
children from place to place, until they had 
at last found shelter in an old house on the 
hills beyond, where they could live rent free. 

And as Nan heard, the beautiful life of 
the past three months seemed to fade away 
as if it had indeed been only a dream, and 
the old burdens fell back upon her, and she 
felt herself the poor little charity child, the 
household drudge, Patsy’s caretaker and 
nurse, Nan Nobody ” again. 

Grayer and colder grew the air, grayer 
and colder the gathering shadows, as the old 
horse went wheezing on up the sunny 
heights, until at last Dad pulled up before 
an old roofless house, standing drearily 
among the frozen hills, a house with broken 
windows and falling doors and tumbling 
chimneys. One corner had been patched up 
into a shelter scarcely flt for the beasts of 
the field, and a faint glimmer of light came 
through the cracked window. 


The Storm Bursts. 


125 


Dad, Dad ! ” cried a shrill little voice, 
and Dave sprang forward to meet the new- 
comers. Bnt N’an scarcely gave her old 
aide-de-camp a glance or a word. With an 
icy pang of fear at her heart, she burst into 
the wretched room, where, stretched on a 
miserable pallet in the corner, lay a little 
skeleton form, with a tangle of golden hair 
and wild, feverish eyes. 

Patsy ! ” she cried, as he stared in be- 
wilderment at the pretty little fnr-robed fig- 
ure before him. Don’ t you know me, 
Patsy boy?” And she tossed off her hat, 
and let the riotous curls tumble over her 
face. 

Nan, Nan ! ” the thin, sharp little voice 
rang out in a cry of rapture, as Patsy started 
up from his pillow and flung his trembling, 
wasted arms around his old friend’s neck. 

Oh, you’ve come back to me, my Nan, my 
own Nan ! ” 

x\nd as Nan clasped the poor, little 
shrunken, piteous form to her faithful heart. 


126 


The Storm Bursts. 


every thought of self vanished, and she took 
up her old life as simply as if the little heir- 
ess of Oakhurst had never been. 

My own little boy ! Yes, IVe come back 
to take care of you, Patsy; and now you are 
going to get well and strong.” 

^^Yan, Nan! Oh, Pm so cold. Nan, and 
the pains are so bad, and there ain’t been no 
one to rub me since you went away. Don’t 
leave me. Nan — don’t leave me no more. Oh, 
I am so scared and so cold, I thought I was 
going to die — ^just with Dave, alone.” 

He was a praying,” piped Dave, who 
looked only a little less pinched and starved 
than his brother — praying the angels would 
send you back to him. Nan.” 

^^And they have,” answered Nan, as she 
winked the tears from her eyes. And you 
are not going to be cold or sick or frightened 
any more, for I’m going to put this nice 
warm coat over you.” And Nan pulled off 
her Russian sealskin and disposed it over the 
puny little form. And if Dave will get me 


The Storm Bursts. 


127 


two or three sticks of wood, 1^11 have a fire 
here in a minute that^s worth talking about. 
Stir about lively, Dave, and put on the 
kettle, if you can find one, for we are going 
to have supper.” 

There ain’t nothing but meal,” said 
Dave, lugubriously. don’t have no 

supper now, Nan.” 

Oh, but we must have supper to-night. 
Isn’t there a store anywhere ? ” 

There is, three miles back at the cross- 
roads,” answered Dad, his dim eyes begin- 
ning to gleam. ^^And I’ve got the money 
your uncle give me. I’ll go over wid the 
sleigh while I have it handy.” 

‘^Yes, yes,” said Nan, eagerly, forgetting 
Dad’s weakness in her anxiety for the starv- 
ing children. Go, Dad, please, quick, and 
bring us candles, and bread and sugar and 
tea, and milk, and wine if you can get it, 
and a piece of beef to make soup, and 
oranges, and, oh, everything you can pack 
in your sleigh. Dad, everything ! ” 


128 


The Storm Bursts. 


I will, I will,’’ said Dad. There’s ten 
dollars in the pocketbook, and it will bny it 
all.” 

And we’ll have the kettle boiling by the 
time you come back,” said Nan, who was 
down on her knees, blowing the sputtering 
logs into a blaze, ^^and Patsy shall have 
some nice cream toast, and tea. So hurry, 
Dad, hurry, please.” 

And Dad shuffled off on his errand, while 
the little lady of Oakhurst, with her pretty 
dress tucked up, her curls flying, and the 
old smudge back upon her rosy cheek, went 
flying around the wretched room, straighten- 
ing and sweeping and smoothing until the 
logs burst into cheery flame, the rusty kettle 
began to sing blithely, poor little half-frozen 
Dave snuggled up delightedly to the warm 
hearth, while Patsy nestled under the soft 
sealskin, with a content akin to rapture in 
his great, starry blue eyes. 

Nan had come, the lost angel of the house- 
hold, the little fireside fairy, who could 


The Storm Bursts. 


129 


bring warmth and comfort and light even 
to a hearth like this. 

ISTan had come! Too weak to speak his 
happiness, Patsy lay on his ragged pillow, fol- 
lowing the busy little figure with a gaze that 
said more than words. The plaint was 
hushed upon his lips, the fever-light had 
died in his eyes, for Nan had come. Patsy 
asked nothing more. 

An hour passed, another, and still Dad 
did not return. Nan had rubbed Patsy’s lit- 
tle wasted limbs, bathed his burning head, 
until he had fallen under the old soothing 
touch into a quiet sleep. Tired little Dave 
was dozing by the fire, that filled the room 
with cheery light. The queer old bits of 
shackly furniture that successive tenants 
had left in their temporary shelter cast 
ghostly shadows in the corners. Oh, how 
lonely it was, how gloomy and lonely and 
dreadful, after Oakhurst — Nan thought of 
the library, with its great glowing fire, the 
drawn curtains, the soft lamplight, the 


130 


The Storm Bursts. 


cushion at Uncle Jack’s feet, the kind hand 
playing with her curls — all gone, gone for- 
ever ! Uncle Jack’s thunderous tones echoed 
in poor Nan’s ears as she recalled the dread- 
ful scene. 

Ah, she could not think of it now ; she dared 
not ; her heart would break. It had all been 
a beautiful dream, and she was awake again, 
and back; back in the old life, with its old 
cares, and burdens and griefs and sorrows; 
back mth her little face pressed to the 
cracked window-pane watching for Dad — 
Dad who had been three hours gone now. 
Surely it was time for him to be home. 

It was snowing without. The gray clouds 
of the evening had given up their burden, 
and the storm had come with the night — a 
storm that seemed rising each moment into 
fiercer strength. Louder and louder swelled 
its voice, the wind wailed through the bro- 
ken windows and shrieked down the totter- 
ing chimney and rattled the swinging doors 
of the old house, as if a horde of evil spirits 


The Storm Bursts. 


131 


were holding revel there. Nan put another 
log on the fire, and tried to warm her chill- 
ing heart at the blaze. Oh, would Dad 
never come? 

Wilder and wilder grew the storm; the 
house shook in its fury; the snow came 
whirling in under the shrunken doors; the 
bricks from the western gable end fell with 
a thunderous crash that startled Patsy and 
Dave in terror from their sleep. 

Nan, Nan, oh, what is it. Nan? ” 

^^Only the storm, Patsy,” she murmured, 
trying to steady her own trembling voice. 

Don' t be frightened. I am here to take care 
of you.” 

And Dad ! Has he come. Nan ? Has he 
brought me an orange? Oh, I want an 
orange so bad. Nan.” 

Dad hasn’t come yet,” she faltered, but 
he will come soon now, Patsy, very soon; 
and he will bring nice milk and tea and 
sugar, and sweet oranges.” 

No, he won’t,” interrupted Dave, shrilly. 


132 


The Storm Bursts. 


‘'‘'Don’t you count on Dad doing all that. 
Nan. He has gone to the store, and he will 
get drunk and forget all about us. He won’t 
come back to bring us nothing, Nan — I 
know.” 


CHAPTER X. 


TRIED AND TRUE. 

And Davy proved a true prophet, for Dad 
did not come. 

All through that dreadful night, with the 
storm raging in fierce fury, the crazy old 
house shaking and rattling in the blasts, 
Xan, wide-eyed with fright and anxiety, kept 
watch, feeding the fire that was the chil- 
dren’s only hope of safety from the deadly 
cold, soothing Patsy’s feverish terrors, bath- 
ing his aching limbs, rousing Davy’s boyish 
courage, cheering both of the children with 
the wonderful stories of Oakhurst and all 
that she had learned there, until they grew 
quiet and confident again at her words. 

Snuggle up there in the bed beside Patsy, 
now, Dave, and go to sleep. My coat will 
133 


134 


Tried and True. 


keep you both warm. Dad is snow-bound, 
but he will be here in the morning.’" 

'^No, he won’t,” answered Davy, shaking 
his head with doleful prescience. ^^When 
Dad gets drunk, he don’t go nowhere to do 
nothing. He just sleeps and snores. And 
the roads will be snowed up, and there ain’t 
no house for a mile; and nobody knows we 
are here, fur Dad is sneaking the rent; and 
we will all freeze!” 

^^Oh, no, no. Just wait until morning, 
and you’ll see things will be all right,” said 
Han, cheerily, though her own heart sank as 
she felt how much truth there might be in 
Davy’s forebodings. 

And when at last the dull gray morning 
broke there was little to encourage hope. 

All without was a white, blinding blur 
of sweeping drifts, and falling snow. Doors 
and windows were blocked hopelessly, for the 
old house stood on an angle that caught the 
full fury of the storm And the last log 
was nearly burned; a scant sack of meal was 


Tried and True. 


135 


the children’s only food; even the well, fro- 
zen and snow-covered, was beyond their 
reach. Nan, who only yesterday had dined 
on oysters and turkey and Spanish cream, 
was trembling with weakness and hunger 
and cold. 

Dad ain’t coming. I told you he wasn’t 
coming,” wailed Dave, as he rubbed his eyes 
and tumbled out of bed, to survey the dismal 
scene. 

0 Dave ! Dave, I don’t believe he is. 
What shall we do ? Oh, what shall we do ? ” 
And for one moment Uncle J ack’s little girl, 
softened a bit, perhaps, by love and luxury, 
worn out by a night .of fear and watching, 
buried her face in her hands, before the dying 
embers of the fire, and sobbed despair- 
ingly. 

^^Nan, Nan,” came a piteous, quavering 
little cry from Patsy’s pallet, ^^0 Nan ! don’t 
let us die. Don’t let us freeze. Oh, take 
care of us. Nan.” 

1 will, I will ! ” 


136 


Tried and True. 


Ah, it was the self-reliant, self-forgetting 
little Nan Nobody of old that started up 
at that helpless cry. 

" 0 dear Father in heaven ! help me, and 
I will. Don’t cry, Davy. Don’t cry, Patsy 
boy. Your old Nan is here to take care of 
you, and she will, Patsy — she will ! ” 

And then it was our little Nan Nobody ” 
showed that in the old, hard life she had 
learned lessons that neither Dncle Jack’s 
globe nor Miss Darrell’s books could teach. 
Never was shipwrecked mariner more help- 
less than this little heroine ; for, stranded in 
an old, shaking house on a white, storm-swept, 
pathless desert, far from all human sight 
and reach, with two trembling little ones 
clinging to her. Nan had fear and cold and 
hunger, aye, and death itself to fight. 

* ❖ * ♦ ♦ 

For three hours after Nan’s departure 
Uncle Jack had tramped his library in a 
towering rage, then slowly his passion began 
to cool. 


Tried and True. 


137 


Perhaps there was something softening in 
the sight of Nan’s glove upon the table, of 
the globe, still traced by her uncertain pen- 
cil,, of the little hassock he had kicked away 
from his chair in the first heat of his 
wrath. 

^‘The little fool — ^the little, stubborn, un- 
grateful fool — to cling to those lowlived 
Farleys after all I had said to her about 
them; to turn from me, from her own fiesh 
and blood, to a set of vulgar beggars that 
had made her their drudge and slave ! That 
governess of Lambert’s was right when she 
said nothing would raise a child from de- 
grading associations.” 

And then, somehow, the picture of Nan’s 
face rose before Uncle Jack, and his big 
heart gave such a throb of tenderness that 
it almost took away his breath. 

I believe she loved the little beggar, ac- 
tually loved him,” he puffed, irritably. And 
she had promised his mother to take care of 
him, she said. Promise, indeed! A nice 


138 


Tried and True. 


promise to put on a poor little innocent heart 
and soul. She will be back to-morrow, I 
suppose. By George, no! She shan’t stay 
in that beggar’s hole another hour,” con- 
tinued IJncle Jack, quite forgetting he had 
just banished Nan eternally from his 
heart and home. ^^Tll go after her to- 
night.” 

Mat ! ” he cried to his old shipmate, who 
was returning from the stable in happy un- 
consciousness of all that had occurred in 
the box-bordered garden path, ^^tell Con to 
harness up the roans to the sleigh. I am 
going—” 

And hot-headed Uncle Jack suddenly 
paused, unable to complete his sentence. 
Where was he going? Where had Nan gone? 
In the fierce fiood of his anger all thought 
of these questions had been swept .away. 
Where would he find the little girl whom he 
had driven from him with harsh, cruel words ? 
Not at the old home, for she had told him the 
Farleys had moved away. 


Tried and True. 


139 


I wouldn’t go far, sir, even with the 
roans,” said Mat. There’s a bank of 
clouds driving down from the north that 
manes storm. I’ve just towld the men to 
house all the craythurs for the night, for 
I’m thinking it’s the blizzard that was fore- 
cast that is coming down on us.” 

A blizzard! The Captain knew his old 
shipmate’s weather wisdom. A blizzard, and 
his little Nan off with a half drunken old 
fool, he knew not where! In a moment he 
was out bare-headed on the portico scanning 
the threatening skies. 

Have the roans harnessed,” he repeated. 

I must go for Nan. That old fool Farley 
has been here with some story about a dying 
child, and she has gone with him.” 

Gone ! Miss Nan gone ! ” repeated Mat, 
in bewilderment. Shure, all the horses is 
in, sir, and the carriages and sleighs.” 

^^Aye, aye, I know — I know,” said the 
Captain, hoarsely. I lost my temper. Mat. 
It maddened me to see the way she clung to 


140 


Tried and True. 


those Farley beggars. I told her she might 
go, and stay forever.’’ 

God forgive you, Captain. Shure, you 
must have been aither mad or dhrunk, to 
fling such words at a tender little craythur 
like that. And she has gone, ye say, gone 
ye don’t know how or where ? Murther, mur- 
ther ! why wasn’t I to the fore ? I’d have 
gone with her if I had to beg from door to 
door for the rest of my life ! ” 

She has only gone to see the dying child, 
you fool,” said the Captain, angry at his 
own fears. “ Have the roans harnessed, and 
we’ll bring her home to-night. Young Far- 
ley is in the prison, and can tell us where his 
father lives, I suppose. Quick, man, quick, 
it is growing late ! ” 

But though the roans sped swiftly over 
the darkening roads, it was to no purpose. 
The warden of the prison could only tell 
Captain Leighton that young Farley’s term 
had expired two days ago, and, with the 
ticket which the Captain had so kindly pro- 


Tried and True. 


141 


cured for him in his pocket, he had left for 
New York, presumably to sail on the next 
steamer for Australia. 

The Farley girl was in town some weeks 
ago,^^ said the Captain, remembering the in- 
terview at the Fair. We must find her. Mat, 
if we can.” And again the sturdy roans sped 
on through the deepening dusk and gather- 
ing storm to the town, where they were 
housed in the livery stable, while Uncle 
Jack and Mat scoured streets and byways 
in a search for Milly Farley. They traced 
her at last to a second-rate tailoring estab- 
lishment, where a sharp-faced forewoman 
informed them that she had been dismissed 
for sassiness,” and joined a theatrical com- 
pany that had taken her out West. 

Through the storm now raging in all its 
fury the searchers made their way back to 
the hotel. It was well-nigh impossible to 
return to Oakhurst to-night. But there was 
no sleep for Uncle Jack. The tide of ten- 
derness and remorse had set in, and Uncle 


142 


Tried and True. 


Jack’s heart was tossing in its waves like a 
rudderless ship adrift. Where was she, his 
little, bright, loving Nan, this awful night? 
To what wretched shelter had he driven her ? 
Perhaps even she had been caught out in this 
fearful storm. And when the leaden-hued 
day came with its wild blur of drift and 
sleet, with its rumors of want and woe and 
disaster on every side. Uncle Jack’s anxiety 
grew into desperation. All roads were 
blocked, all traffic stopped. Stories came of 
men and horses lost in snow-drifts; of wom- 
en found freezing by fireless hearths; of 
death and discomfort even in the palatial 
homes of the rich. 

Uncle Jack and Mat, making their way 
through storm and drift in a vain search for 
the Farleys, found suffering enough to 
empty their pockets and fill their hearts with 
fear and dread, but no sign of Dad or the 
lost Nan. 

It was not until the morning of the second 
day that Mat, who had been out on a restless 


Tried and True, 


143 


tramp, came back to the Captain, white- 
faced and evidently shaken with excite- 
ment. 

met a countryman below, sir. He is 
just in, afther nearly freezing to death on 
the road. He says he lent a sleigh, Tuesday, 
to an ould man named Farley.” 

Where, where? What are you stopping 
for, man ? Tell me all, quick ! ” cried Uncle 
Jack. 

Shure, the sleigh was found in a drift 
this morning, sir, and the ould man — dead.” 

And the child ! ” gasped Uncle Jack. 

My little girl — my little Han ! ” 

^‘^Aisy, sir, aisy,” said Mat, anxiously, for 
the look in the Captain’s face frightened 
him. There was no sign of the little girl, 
sir, none at all. But the man says that Far- 
ley lived in ah ould rookery of a place on the 
Kidge Koad, where he had two bits of boys. 
And—” 

" Let us go there — let us go. Mat,” said 
Uncle Jack, rallying to this gleam of hope. 


144 


Tried and True. 


we can, sir — if we can/^ said Mat; 
^^but, God help us, the man says the drifts 
are six feet high atwixt here and there.” 

“We will go if they are twenty feet,” said 
Uncle Jack, desperately. “ Order out the 
roans, man, and relays, laborers, snow-plows 
— anything. I must cut my way to that 
house if it costs every dollar I have in the 
world.” 

And though it took six pairs of horses and 
a dozen stout men to break a way through the 
blocked roads and the mountainous drifts, it 
was done at last, and the rescuing party 
reached the hill, where, roofless and window- 
less, the old house stood, buried to the second 
story in snow. 

“God help us,” said Mat, “no human 
craythur could have lived these two days 
there.” 

“ Aye, look — look ! ” said Uncle Jack, 
pointing to a faint spiral of smoke floating 
from a broken chimney. “In, my men. 
Clear a way in ! ” 


Tried and True. 


145 


And in a moment the great drifts were 
forced, the door burst open, and Uncle Jack, 
white with the awful fear of what might 
meet his eye, stood on the threshold of the 
low, smoke-blackened room. 

For a moment he paused, speechless with 
emotion, with amazement, for a royal fire 
blazed upon the big hearth. Chairs, table- 
legs, bed slats, everything combustible with- 
in reach, fed the cheery, leaping fiames. 
Snuggled up in a pallet near by, and cov- 
ered by a rich sealskin, slept two puny, little, 
pale-faced boys. An ash-cake was baking on 
a bed of raked embers, a pot of gruel simmer- 
ing over the blaze, and a bucket of snow 
melting into drinking-water was before the 
hearth. 

And there, in the glow of the firelight, 
with tangled hair and smudged face, and 
brave little hands bruised and blackened by 
unaccustomed work, overcome at last by 
weariness and watching, sat Nan, sleeping. 

Nan ! Nan ! ” She was too tired to 


146 


Tried and True. 


start even at the dear familiar call. She 
roused only to find herself clasped again to 
Uncle Jack’s big heart, to feel hot tears 
upon her cheek, to hear broken words of 
love and thankfulness breathed above her. 

"0 Uncle Jack! dear Uncle Jack, I am 
so glad — so glad,” she sobbed, the long- 
strained nerves giving way at last. Oh, 
surely God told you where to find us. Uncle 
Jack; for the meal is nearly gone, and I’ve 
just split up the last chair. 0 Uncle Jack! 
forgive me. Patsy and Dave would have 
died if I had not come. Forgive me. Uncle 
Jack, and take me home.” 

Forgive you ! ” repeated Uncle Jack, 
huskily. Forgive you, Nan ! I am a hot- 
headed old fool, that ought to be down on 
my knees begging your pardon, my own 
brave little girl. Come home to me, and 
bring a whole ship’s crew of Patsies, if you 
please. I’ll take care of them all — all. Nan, 
for your sake.” 

* * :ic * * 


Tried and True. 


147 


And Uncle Jack was as good as his word. 
There was a happy Christmas after all, at 
Oakhurst, and the big Christmas tree rose in 
the hall laden with gifts for old and yonng, 
rich and poor. And the two milk-white 
ponies foretold by Mat came trotting from 
Santa Clans Land, drawing the prettiest lit- 
tle phaeton ever made for an uncle’s pet. 
Davy, in a brand-new suit of clothes, sampled 
plum-cake and ice-cream for the first time in 
his life, while from a soft-cushioned couch 
in the conservatory Patsy looked out upon 
the bewildering scene, with blue eyes shin- 
ing like stars. 

And I’m going to stay here always ? ” 
he whispered to ISTan. I ain’t ever going to 
be turned out ? ” 

Never, Patsy ! You are my own little 
brother now, and Uncle Jack is going to let 
me take care of you always. And the doctor 
says he thinks he can make you well and 
strong, so you can play and run and jump 
like other boys. 0 Patsy ! isn’t it all beau- 


148 


Tried and True. 


tiful? You must say every night and 
morning, ^ God bless Uncle Jack/ ” 

‘‘1 wilV^ said Patsy. ^^And I'll say 
something else, Nan,” he added, putting his 
thin little arms around her neck. ‘‘1 say 
it all the time. It's ^God bless Nan — dear 
Nan — good Nan — my own Nan Nobody/ ” 


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